


Stuck On You

by WritewhatIwant



Category: One Direction, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Bottom Louis, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominant Harry, Dual POV, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Older Harry, Shy Louis, Submissive Louis, Top Harry, Voyeurism, Younger Louis, solo masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 33,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27405802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritewhatIwant/pseuds/WritewhatIwant
Summary: Louis’ life revolves around his stickers. Harry’s life revolves around his job. The universe has decided their worlds should revolve around each other.
Relationships: Harry Styles & Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 115
Kudos: 422
Collections: Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *Trigger Warnings*  
> • Anxiety  
> • Anxiety Attack(s)  
> • Food Aversions  
> • The anxiety and attacks are mentioned heavily throughout, and the food aversion is also mentioned a handful of times, so as always, please heed these warnings and take care of yourselves.
> 
> Rule of Thumb:  
> • There may be inaccuracies pertaining to the lawyer aspects, so I do apologize.  
> • Everyone's walk with anxiety is different, what I included in the story is the experience I learned from someone close to me, and was given permission to write on. I tried to keep the intricacies of the disorder vague as to not overstep.
> 
> Closing:  
> • I had so much fun writing this prompt and I honestly think I went a little overboard lol but nonetheless I'm happy with the outcome. So, to whomever submitted this, thank you and I hope you enjoy! All in all, I hope those who do give it the time of day enjoy and know that I’m grateful for any read, kudos, or comment. All the love, peace and chicken grease. ❤️✌🏾
> 
> • Prompt 211: Louis has a sticker collection and he loves to show it to everyone but his friends always make fun of him for being a grown adult and having a sticker collection. So, when he gets a new neighbor named Harry, he is excited to meet him and show him his collection. Harry isn’t to amused with he’s weird neighbor and always lets him know that his collection is stupid. Everyone morning when Louis is heading to work, he finds new sheets of stickers Taped to his door. He’s confused by them but accepts them because they’re cute.

Louis was sixteen when he was diagnosed with his anxiety disorder. His narcissistic mother couldn't grapple with a child who couldn't cope with life, so she immediately thrust him into therapy. A demanding onyx-eyed glare to health professionals that easily read, 'fix my kid'. She was a hard woman to please, always unhappy with methods and suggestions, which ultimately had Louis tossed between four different specialists. Louis wasn't hopeful for the fifth to last, but when they did, he exhaled. 

Dr. Lowd was his mother's last and final choice. She was a young Indian-American who said everything his mother wanted to hear, while having a totally different outlook inside their confidential sessions.

Her name was comical within all its perplexity because she was extremely soft-spoken. Louis thinks that's why they meshed incredibly well. Most of their sessions were silent meetings that happened every day, except weekends, at four-thirty. They'd sit cross-legged on her burnt orange shag rug she called Shaggy, eat a dozen donuts from Dunkin’ she’d bought, and chug bottles of Coke. They'd meditate to rainwater and press stickers into the scrapbook she'd made him as a coping mechanism. It was the calmest the rushing waters in his head had ever felt in his life.

Things seemed to be looking up, until they weren't looking up far enough for his mother. She'd shown up thirty minutes before the end of a session demanding answers on why he wasn't _fixed_ yet.

> _"He's not broken!" Dr. Lowd hissed, "Anxiety isn't something you fix Martha, and the sooner you let Louis learn to love his disorder instead of trying to force him to push it in the dark, you'll be able to love him like he needs."_
> 
> _"I'm not paying you to fix this with love!" she replied, nose upturned as she pushed Louis behind her back. "I'm paying you to do a job. A job you're consistently showing me you aren't qualified for."_
> 
> _She allows a soft but deprecating laugh fall from her lips as she stares behind the brazen woman, and at the person who'll truly be missing out. "This has nothing to do with my qualifications, just my genuine care for my patient."_
> 
> _"Well, he's your patient no more."_

He held back his building tears as she pulled him unwillingly out of the building. The growing need to scream and protest, held back only by the scrapbook stashed in the Jansport thumping at his back. The moments he shared with Dr. Lowd would stay with him forever because of that book, and he'd protect it with his life.

***

He spent the remainder of his high school experience guarding the safe keep gifted to him. Relying on it, and the secretly purchased stickers to keep his anxiety in order. It was his escape from the perfect bubble his mother kept them encased in. Until graduation morning came, and he couldn't guard the book any longer.

He'd slipped into his cap and gown, and was smoothing down the fine hairs tickling the tips of his ears. His attention was focused on his smiling reflection and not the scrapbook open on his mattress, the last designed page on full display.

His mother's abrupt entrance was nothing new, so as she bombarded his space with demands and requests, he continued his self-assessment. Until she was anchored at the foot of his bed, a frown ingrained across her red-painted lips. He didn't even bother gauging the rest of her reaction, his own eyes flitting down to the book he could see clearly in the mirror. The glittery Pride flags and symbols that he'd snuck and purchased behind her back, making his stomach plummet out. He willed his mind to ignore the razor teeth of dread sawing into his back.

He stared long and hard at her manicured hand flipping hazardously through the pages. He rushed after her as she held the book limply, his eyes forever trained on its glossy pages. All that staring made it easy to watch it burn in the fireplace. His reliance burned to, right along with the book. Ashes upon ashes left behind that ended up burying that love he'd grown for stickers—stickers that he'd leaned heavily on to ameliorate his anxiety.

His stickers didn't reemerge again until after his mother passed, which was not only wildly fucked up, but challenging for Louis to grasp. She'd run off the one person outside their family who’d been successful in helping him, and maliciously destroyed his one helpful routine that aided in his survival of the shitshow that was his life.

When she cut him off from the world at sixteen she became the only other human being capable of talking him down from the cliff of impending doom. So, at nineteen, when the harsh realities of adult life were beating him senseless, he finally let himself admit that she was a horrible mother. However, he could only disclose it in the darkness of his one-bedroom apartment when his racing thoughts would remind him of the missed opportunities for better coping mechanisms.

Because of her, he had to suffer through harmful and horrible habits. Like being stuck in public when a crawling thought would wiggle it's way like a slimy worm into his brain and nestle there to grow big and fat. The going would get tough, and he had no choice but to find solace in the incessant picking of his unhealed scabs, and the mauling of his raw, tomato red, nubs of his already bitten nails. It was in those late-night reminders that he cursed her name the most.

***

He'd been without his mother for six whole months when he met Kenny and Andy, and around that time, he'd already hit bottom and even started digging a hole. Most nights spent huddled in the booth of some rundown bar, knocking back shot after shot of something that not only burned and seared but expunged. The one thing that emptied his constant rolling mind and made his anxiety feel like a distant relative that only came around when he allowed.

He'd swallowed his fifth shot when they approached him. His shaky hands were slick with sweat as he gripped the edge of the table to help ease the spinning of the room. His warm tongue thick and heavy in his mouth as his head swayed.

"You alright, dude?" a lean-figure dreadhead with bright gray eyes asked. He was smiling one of those sympathetic smiles that sober Louis would've been bothered by.

"I'm actually better than ever." he'd mastered the art of drinking copious amounts of hard liquor, so their widened eyes at his unslurred speech made a blush fan across his warm face.

"You should probably call it quits," the other man advised. He was heavy set with an indurate face and caviling blue eyes. "You need a ride?"

"I rode the bus … I only live—" Louis suppressed the rising burp, cheeks extending as he eyed the rippling brown liquid in the small shot glass. "—A block away."

"We'll walk you home man." gray eyes insisted, "You shouldn't be walking alone."

They laughed when Louis' head fell in between nodding in shaking.

"Come on, you're trashed."

Louis rambled the entire way home; it was something only his boozed conscience could accomplish. They laughed at every random thought he muttered, let silence overcome them when he mentioned his deceased mother, and simultaneously patted his back when he openly cried about his loneliness.

They kept coming around after that night, and every night that followed, Louis found himself less and less drunk. His sobriety allowed him the opportunity to learn about his newfound friends. He learned that Andy’s been growing his dreads since he was ten and that Kenny's boyfriend, Ethan, is studying abroad in Australia. On the anniversary of his mom's passing, he stopped drinking altogether and finally confided in them about his anxiety disorder, briefly mentioning the stickers that once helped. It was nice to get it off his chest, and it was even better to have companions.

Then, during the first holiday season with Andy and Kenny, all those old memories of his muddied childhood washed to shore. A simple gesture confronted him with the images of the singed scrapbook that was now just black dust in the landfill of trash on the city outskirts.

They were gearing up for their first Christmas as new friends, and Louis was just happy to not be spending his birthday and the winter holiday alone. On his birthday, they came over around noon with Dunkin and gifts in their hands. They'd sat on his couch eating the holiday donuts and watched classic Christmas films with him.

Louis’ face could split in two from his happiness. And when the gift giving came around he was way to giddy and uncaring of what they'd got him. Their presence in his home was all he needed. That idea sufficed until he tore open the wrapping paper of their shared gift for him, and two notepads filled with glossy emblems sat in his hands. They rushed to tell him it wasn't meant with any malice when he'd been on the verge of tears, but as they stared at him with a shared understanding, the 'joke' would carry on for the next four years.

Every year they would give Louis a different set of stickers that varied significantly. A pamphlet filled with planets and galaxies to ones littered with varying types of trees. He managed to stop pitifully crying after the first year and instead laughed gleefully as he stuck an entire page worth on each one of their hairy calves.

Every year that passed, Louis would become more excited for the next. He'd pull the two men close and hold back his tears as he gazed at the colorful images embellishing the waxy paper. The pressing need to ask them to only gift him stickers always at the tip of his tongue. It was eager to tumble out and wrap itself around them in the tightest hug it could manage. He just wanted to ease it into the folds of their clothes so that they remembered he wanted all the stickers and nothing else.

Except his silent hope for only stickers wasn’t realized, because they eventually switched to other things. Andy started giving him gift cards to Dunkin, and Kenny settled on funny socks that were adorned in either goofy figures or quirky sayings. He was grateful, always grateful, but nothing would ever compare to the sheer joy and content he got from the surplus of pretty symbols.

See, those first few pads of stickers had him tumbling down a memory hole he'd filled a long time ago. Unpacking those moments had him reliving the hours spent huddled up in Dr. Lowd's office pasting stickers into his therapy book. That simple method evoked in him the groundbreaking truth that his anxiety is manageable and something he doesn't have to fear. It was the subtle remembrance of his past that he needed in order to feel comfortable indulging in the hobby once again, it was also an unfolding madness that he hated to admit he loved.

It was easy to buy the thin booklets, limiting himself to two and throwing in an extra one when he managed the entire week without an anxiety attack. It was the motivator he loved only because he made it his goal to stay free of an anxiety attack.

Saturday grocery runs ending with three notepads of his choice and building his collection so quickly that his apartment was ripping at the seams with stickers by the end of the year. Wherever he looked, whether it was the oatmeal carpet in his living room or the gray marble counters in his kitchen, stickers covered them. It was initially an eminent problem but was immediately mended by the holiday totes he bought for fifty percent off at Target.

Anytime he thought: _maybe I can throw just a few away_ ; nausea would deluge his insides, and the thundering storm of impending dread sat dormant in his mind. He was scolded by his conscience and reminded of the fatal doom that would arise if he tossed them out. The only remedy to soothe his restless mind at that point was going out and purchasing more stickers. Even summoning a simple thought that involved a life without his stickers again, meant a world he wouldn't survive in.

***

He presses a sticker onto the polished wood, mirthful sapphires fixated on the picture of a small llama wearing a red fedora. "Hmm." he rubs the pad of his thumb over it, "I think … you're in my top ten."

He kept his tone level with the feel in his quiet room, admiring the sticker now situated on the back of his bedroom door. It was his latest project, emblems that had his lower stomach thrumming with warmth and a fuzzy flutter settling in the grooves of his ribcage. It was the exact feeling he got when he ate a Boston crème donut. He slid his pointer finger down the image before stepping away to examine the, almost a year, progress.

"Louis Bluey!"

Louis eases out of his room with a soft smile kept mildly at bay. It fills out to his cheeks when he opens his front door to see Kenny and Andy crowding his entrance. Jovial smiles on their faces as they shuffled into his meager foyer. The door hadn't even been locked and shut adequately before they were transposing into his front room that was crowded with colorful bins overflowing with stickers. He'd forgotten all about his organizing attempt, his plan to store the different figurines into properly labeled containers abandoned. He blamed the llama in the red fedora, it had garnered all his attention with an unspoken demand to be put on his bedroom door.

He often came across a sticker that begged and pleaded to be put either on his door or in the small tin lunchboxes he carried with him out in public spaces. They were his coping stickers, special garnishments that he could use as a ladder out of his rabbit hole.

"Good god Louis, not this shit again." Kenny groaned. He pushed an overflowing bin with his foot, a few notepads falling to the carpet. "It's getting _old_."

"We've created a monster," Andy added spookily, right hand plunging down into a bin of individual stickers, the ones he collected from the gumball machines at his dentist office and neighborhood Walmart.

His giggle is airy, a peal of light laughter because he knows they're just joking. He knocks his glasses up and off the edge of his nose with his knuckle. "Give me a break. I'm giving them new homes."

"You need to throw them in the fucking trash—hell—give'em to a boys' and girls' club. All I know, right now, is that no perfectly _sane_ and functional twenty-four-year-old has or needs these many damn stickers." Louis frowns because this doesn't sound like a lighthearted joke anymore, and Kenny instead sounds like an overbearing father figure that Louis doesn't need. "If you don't get this shit under control, I swear, I won't come back over here."

His eyes shoot to the kitchen bar top, one of his metal lunchboxes visible from his place on the floor. "I—they—no." Louis decides that's the ultimate answer, and there is no sense to beat around the bush about it. Kenny obviously doesn't like that response when his face bubbles up red, and he poises his mouth to shout some more. Louis doesn't understand the guilt fanning out in his chest.

"Ken, you bastard, leave him alone. Let us not forget your creepy obsession with Australian coins."

Kenny gives Andy an incredulous stare, "Coins that my _boyfriend_ , who might I remind your inconsiderate ass is studying abroad, gives me." his steel blues brim with anger as he looks to the cluttered floor again. "This isn't _due_ to a relationship. This is due to an overly dependent—never mind—I've gotta get the hell out of here, it's just so fucking … _messy_ , ugh!"

Louis' eyes don't stray from the metal box perched on the high countertop, not when Kenny grumbles through his foyer or when he slams the apartment door. He keeps his eyes locked on the metal box to help settle that rising irrationality within him. He even slides a sweaty palm up onto the lid of a nearby tote and presses down hard.

"I don't want to give them away," eyes finally drifting from the lunchbox to a frowning Andy, "They make me happy, D." Louis' tone is convincing enough that Andy gives him a simple smirk.

It's as the lanky man gazes hard at the bins littering the small space that he becomes apprehensive again. "Lou-pie, it _is_ a bit weird. That doesn't mean Ken isn't a dick because he is, and yes, he needs to take a chill pill. However, he— _we_ —worry. Just think about all the money wasted right now in this room alone. Thousands of dollars on a hobby that isn't worth nearly as much time or energy you give it."

Louis pouts until Andy ruffles his soft locks and flicks gently at the glass of his chunky black frames. Instead of confronting the evident discontent he feels right now, he shuffles over to an open bin of notepads and pulls one out entitled summer fruits. "They're important." he mutters softly, finger dancing over a glossy yellow lemon before he smiles big and pulls it off, extending forward to press it against Andy's hairy calf. His smile travels up the looming body that is grinning down on him, "Makes others happy too."

"I know, I know, Lou-pie. I'm just suggesting you break free of the chains that spell out _stickers are my life_. The handling you have on your anxiety is exceptional, and I think that the dependency on the stickers is all in your head. Which makes me also think it's doing you more harm than good." he starts to back towards the exit, his eyes never wavering from Louis' crouched form. "Venturing out, even coming to have a drink or two at the old hangout, could help show you that these things aren't worth it. So, just think about it."

Louis can't watch the man leave, so he averts his eyes down at the sticker book still open in his lap. The door's click is his queue to rise from his place on the floor as slowly as he can. Louis doesn't want to fast, doesn't want his mind and body to think the worse, and skyrocket into an unsuspected downward spiral. The lightheaded feeling that began to build behind his eyes subsides the minute he places his palm against the cold metal of the lunchbox he'd been eyeing the entire stiff encounter.

He inhales, "One. Two. Three," whispered out on his exhale.

He loves his friends, or at least he thinks he does. They've been the only two people, besides Jordy, he's had since his mother's passing. He must admit he loved them a lot more when they understood just why these little sticky pictures meant everything to him.

A whimper pushes past his trembling lips, and he squeezes his eyes shut. "One. Two. Three." this hobby was harmless. "They _are_ worth it." he adds with concrete finality, his finger brushing over an emblem that’s an ear of corn. "Worth every penny."

* * *

"You said I could keep the Michigan home, Daniel! You promised!"

Harry rubbed at his right temple to alleviate the steady pounding mounting inside his head, the first indicator of an impending headache. Something for which he solely blamed his client's soon to be ex-wife. Only because his temple was thumping along with the slam of her hand.

"Ms. Waters, please, calm down." it was the overtired moderator's advice, morose eyes flitting sluggishly over the hysterical woman.

She's standing when she approaches her next tirade. "How can I be _calm_ when the man I gave and did everything for is sitting here trying to fuck me over!" Almost like he's trying to reward himself for knocking up his secretary and leaving his _beloved_ wife of ten years penniless with his first two children!"

When Harry stifles his yawn, he also stifles that overhanging need to just walk right off the edge of sanity. He's never liked any of his clients, including their distraught partners. He'd mastered his job so well that now the only people that could afford his services were petulant adult children who had way too much money—rich men and women with microscopic doses of power who treated divorce as their own sadistic board game. It disgusted him to the ends of the earth and served as his daily reminder that love and commitment was for suckers

This case, with the blubbering ex-wife, had been his best friend Liam's. Liam was his law partner, who was currently on paternity leave due to his wife going into unexpected labor. Harry had gotten a semblance of a briefing on the client, but one could never truly be prepared for the train wreck that was mediation meetings.

Mr. Harper was an esteemed boat salesman and owner whose cocky demeanor and overcompensating attitude screamed douchebag effortlessly. Harry had seen plenty enough pictures of the nuclear family his client was trading in and plenty more of the secretary he was trading it all in for. He'd seen it all and could even see none of it to know that it'd be the biggest mistake of the man's life. It was apparent his homewrecking concubine was after his money, but Harry's fleeting look into boat sales in the area told him the man had enough now but wouldn't later. So, when Harry thought about that little bit of money drying up right alongside the secretary, he'd chuckle to himself because men like Mr. Harper deserved it.

Harper's soon to be ex bothered Harry considerably, but he still pitied the woman, although he pitied her for reasons most wouldn't expect. It was the fact that she was a beautiful woman who'd given an idiot like her ex-husband ten years and two kids. Pitied her most because she'd obviously been way too in love and not logical enough at the age of twenty-two to know that you never signed a prenup without reading the small print first. Now her world was being ripped up from under her, and she was being left a penurious fool.

He pulled himself out of psychoanalyzing his client's wrecked life to acknowledge the all-consuming tension that felt like a persistent rain cloud. It was as he leaned forward, clasped hands garnished in rings, that he itched to have a drink, a _real_ drink.

"My client can ensure that his children will be given the best of care. He will also provide Ms. Waters with a temporary living space for the next year." he allowed his sage-colored eyes, darkened by the dim lighting, to rest briefly on the bawling woman before they stationed themselves on her debilitated lawyer.

It took an awkward minute for the attorney to get her words in order, but the deranged spouse was yelling once again when she did. "Temporary, fucking temporary! How dare you!" she wailed.

The despondent lawyer attempted to calm her down, voice low as she whispered quickly into her distraught client's ear. It took the woman another stilted minute to compose her client before she spoke up again.

"I think it's a little egregious that my client's being treated as this unwanted houseguest. It'd be only fair, as well as just, that Mr. Harper provides my client with permanent accommodations to raise their two children."

Harry lets his eyes roll over to his client. He's undeniably detached from the meeting altogether, too busy scrolling through his Blackberry. Attitudes like Mr. Harper's bothered him most, and clients like Harper never even made it to Harry's desk. Harry has always had those select few potential clients who walk in his firm and assume that he tolerates spousal mistreatment because he's a divorce lawyer. Opulent men and women who were amongst the upper-echelon of people Harry wouldn't be caught dead associating with outside of a work setting.

"As I mentioned earlier, counsel, Mr. Harper will ensure that the lives of his children go uninterrupted."

She bristles. A grim smile that pulls her rose-stained lips into a thin line. "And his devoted wife?"

"She signed the prenup. My hands are tied." Harry reminds, clenching his fist when Ms. Waters slams her bony hand down again.

"A prenup that he said himself meant nothing! Was just a technicality!"

The mediator sighs deeply, wipes at his forehead with a thin blue handkerchief. "Ms. Waters, if you cannot hold yourself together, we'll be forced to reschedule for a later date.

God no, Harry thinks. The last thing he wants is to have this case postponed. He poised his mouth to object, give an eloquent spiel that would have them out of this room in the next five minutes, until the opposing lawyer beat him to the punch.

"That won't be necessary. My client will reign in her temper towards being _conned_ for ten years."

Harry works hard to suppress the escalating need to belly laugh. It pushes against his lips and makes him execute a poorly placed cough. The uneasy silence carried on far longer than Harry would've liked; the reminder of how much this case was paying had his griping nonexistent. Eight-hundred and fifty an hour is the only reason he bit his tongue and tolerated the snobs he found himself consistently representing.

"Counselor Styles." Harry eyes the unamused mediator, "Will your client consider any other avenues to support Ms. Waters?"

Harry observes his withdrawn client first, then the middle-aged woman, with blotchy red eyes, whose life is now in shambles. "No."

Her eyes narrowed at Harry before turning her sinister gaze on her ex. "You're a bastard, and you'll rot in hell for this." the icy words were like long thick icicles, except they hadn't perforated any skin just shattered to the ground. That underlying need to cry again obvious in her tone as she stood, fleeing the room with her lawyer rushing after her.

They allowed that final outburst to settle before the stout man stood and peered down on Harry and his own client with an uninterested gaze. "We'll fax over the final documents. Thank you, gentlemen."

Harry rises quickly, a curt nod and firm handshake given to the man who made it clear he didn't do this job for the atmosphere and happy faces. As he rebuttons his suit jacket, he remembers his client, who is still absorbed into the screen of his cellphone.

"Styles, thanks again. Just have Niall fax the invoice over to Kathy, and once again, you're an all-star man. I don't know how you do it."

"Me neither." he says with this slight bluntness that can be easily overlooked.

***

"It was awful, I mean Liam, the guy couldn't care less." Harry was hunched over his desk, iPhone pressed between his ear and right shoulder, complaining to the only other person who could understand his dilemma. "She was so emotional. Crying, screaming, the whole fucking nine."

Liam's laugh is the one that is interchangeable between them both. The laughter that says, _I know exactly what you're going through_. "Shit, I'm sorry, H. Had I known how emotional this case would've been, I would've warned you better. I know how much you hate those." The distant sound of a baby crying draws their attention briefly. "I'll be back first thing tommo—"

"Absolutely not. You will stay home with your wife and fetus. I can handle a few dreadful cases on my own."

Liam chuckles once more, "The fetus is named Carmen."

"Yes. Your wife never fails to remind me when she's cursing my existence in Spanish."

"CC's softened her up a good bit."

His mind fills with images of Liam's little family he'd been sent over the weekend, and he smiles alone in his office. "Take your time, man, all the time you need. We're good on this home front over here."

"Thanks, H, I appreciate it. It's nice to know it's an actual heart pumping under that cold exterior."

"Ha. Ha." heavy sarcasm as he reads the time on his desktop. "I'll let you get back to domestic bliss. Talk to you tomorrow."

When he hangs up, he places his phone face down on his desk, staring at it a moment longer before he looks out into the dark, desolate corridor. Niall was sent home early, and he'd expected to follow behind him but got caught up with paperwork and Liam's phone call. When the analog clock clicks over to ten, he decides to pull somewhat of an all-nighter, the four cases sitting in his 'in' box calling out to him.

* * *

Louis didn't care about the line of teardrops trickling down his face, or the few prickles of them left clumped along the bottom of his eyelashes. He just wanted his hands to stop shaking and his jackrabbit of a heart to stop beating so damn fast. Louis wanted the stolen notepads pressed hard to his wheezing chest to ease this rising panic so he can make it home without a public breakdown. His shaking eases up as he pulls off his glasses to wipe away the accumulating tears, and it calms almost wholly when he realizes he's only a block away from home.

When his slippery hand grasps the doorknob and pushes into his abode, he only makes it into the middle of the foyer when his legs give out, and his body crumples in on itself. The click of the door allows his rapid hyperventilating to grow, and he pushes the handful of booklets closer to his chest again.

"Why would they—" a broken sob cutting him off. The booklets burn now, and he tosses them further into the room to stop the pain. He occupies his hands by placing them over his eyes—the perpetual need to claw the images from his eyelids.

It's an hour and a half later before he calms himself down, crawling into his living room to search out his metal box on the coffee table and just hold it close to his stomach. Let the aluminum cool his burning skin.

"I hate them. Hate them, hate them, hate." he whispers viciously, body swaying back and forth.

Louis grips the vibrating phone, blurry irises glaring at the twenty-one missed calls and text messages. He averts up to the time in the right corner, huffing when he realizes he needs to be at work in thirty minutes. It'd be so easy to lay flat on his living room floor and curl into a ball for the rest of eternity. Except there's Jordy, the elderly man he sits with, almost every day, who will miss him. Plus, today is a special day that he doesn't want to miss out on. So, he begrudgingly pulls himself to his bedroom, and after meditating with his hand pressed to the back of his door for five minutes he feels ready. He changes into something more comfy, and scoops the two spare keys from his front room floor, tosses one in the trash and hides the second in the hallway junk drawer.

***

"Thought I was gonna have to play monopoly with Paula." Jordy smiles big at Louis, "She cheats, you know."

Louis shuffles into the warm room. Jordy's got Gilmore Girls going on his TV, and he's already dressed for their day outside. "She does not; she's just better than you."

"Lies!" he shouts, his knitting needles raised to the ceiling.

A grimace is all Louis can manage to pass the dramatized man. It's usually relatively easy for him to get comfortable in Jordy's room. However, his nerves are shot, and he can only mentally focus on the box tucked under his arm.

"Spill the beans, cookie," he says, leaning forward to scrutinize the boy who still hasn't sat down, and is instead standing forlornly in the walkway.

"I don't think I'm friends with Kenny and Andy anymore."

Jordy pats the thick brown quilt across his bed, "Come here, kiddo."

Louis drags his body over to the queen mattress and plops down. The tears wiggle down his face way before Jordy's wrapped him in a hug. Louis' hands travel up the frail back, and he uses his right pointer finger to wrap a coil of silky midnight hair around his finger.

"Scale?"

Louis breaths in the overwhelming but soft scent of Downy fabric softener. "Seven."

"Before you got here?"

"Ten." Louis knows when he's ever at a ten, he's supposed to call out. "I didn't want you to chew me out for not coming today."

He squeezes the warm body hard, "Never over prioritizing your mental and physical health."

Louis pulls away, hands wiping gently at his damp cheeks. Jordy's got his unwavering gaze on him, and he can't help but give him a cheerful grin.

"There's that shining smile." Jordy beams, shaking Louis' shoulders. "Now, what did the bastards do?"

"They hate my stickers," Louis grabs the metal tin box next to him, "And they—they took a bin from my house, without my permission, and I found them giving them away in their complex."

"Who in the hell would want sticker notepads?"

"Innocent kids!" Louis whines, "So I looked like a complete maniac as I snatched up what was left when I got there." he stands and begins to pace, "But I, but. They're _mine_ , and I love them more than anything—so why." he pulls at his roots because he needs something to tether him to reality, so he doesn't fall apart again.

"Breathe, cookie," Jordy advises, tremulous form rising from the bed to comfort an unstable Louis. "Open your box, and just breathe."

Louis' maneuvered back to the bed and immediately flips open the aluminum top. He pulls out a frog wearing a tuxedo and lets a watery smile spread across his face as he recounts the memory of its arrival.

It was just over a year ago that Louis collected it from a gas station on the opposite side of town. He and Jordy had been visiting a nearby ice cream stand the older male remembered from his childhood when they ventured into the hole in the wall shop.

"Well, how about that," Jordy whispers with surprise, chuckling as he watches Louis rub the picture between two fingers.

"They didn't even have the decency to say sorry." Louis watches Jordy grab the monopoly game from his dresser. "Just looked at me like I was as crazy as I felt."

"Jackasses."

His smile grows as the hunched man brings the box over, "Yeah they are."

"We should head out to the garden. The primroses are beginning to bloom."

"Will Leo be joining us?" Louis smirks when the older man knocks his leg with his cane.

"He better. I didn't spend fifty-five years learning about them to have him not nag me on the day of blooming."

Louis follows Jordy, holding on to the man as they laugh. When they get to the far edge of the garden, Louis lets Jordy direct them to the area amongst the primroses that allows him to feel the spirit of his late husband best.

He helps the man down into a chair before sitting in his own. "He never nags you."

"I know." and just as he says those words, a gentle breeze encompasses them. Jordy’s rich brown hand dances in the air, and makes Louis smile.

***

It's after eating turkey sandwiches paired with cool ranch Doritos, chugging back a four-pack of diet coke he snuck in, and letting Jordy annihilate him in four games of Monopoly that he's glad he forced himself up off his apartment floor. He's all smiles when the bus drops him off, and it doesn't waver during his short walk to his apartment building. He didn't have time to think about the fucked up thing done to him because somehow he managed to convince the executive director to let them have an off-site visit.

He's walking onto the elevator, mind still thumbing through potential places for them to visit when he smiles over at the tall frowning gentleman already in the lift. Louis' grin finally falters. He's got his lunchbox tucked under his right arm before he pulls it out and lets it sit in both hands. He thumbs over a sticker, a piece of cherry pie with a dollop of whip cream, and realizes he must pay his happiness forward.

"H-hello." Louis' almost surprised by how timid he sounds. His dirty, partially tied vans have never been so interesting. He's staring at them for way too long now, though, because he has to push on the right edge of his lenses to prevent them from sliding further down his nose. "Would you like to look at my stickers?"

The man's eyes are a Sacramento green that seem to almost fade into black at the iris when he peers down on him. A thick coffee-colored beard that cocoons a down turned mouth. The disinterest sways Louis slightly.

"I beg your pardon?"

Louis' stomach coils up and rolls around in the pit. A voice so deep and thick, like melted dark chocolate, he's immediately unswayed and giggles instead. He watches the numbers go higher before landing his eyes back on the well-dressed gentleman. "My stickers. Would you like to see them? You looked upset a minute ago, and whenever I'm upset, my stickers make me smile."

"You're kidding." his face scrunches up in annoyance, but the dinging of his watch briefly catches his attention. After he’s typed at the small screen, he's eyeing Louis again, a calculated gaze that shifts up and down his body and makes him feel as though he's under a microscope. "How old are you exactly?"

Louis' cheeks bulge out, big eyes squinted as he smiles. "Twenty-four, I’m Louis." the dimming numbers catch his eye again, and they're two floors away, which prompts him to unclick the front lock of his lunchbox. His hand sifts through the miniature pictures. "I can't give you one of these because they're my favorites, but maybe you can swing by my apartment and get one?"

Louis's incessant rambling had him not realizing the man was giving his undivided attention to his cellphone screen. When the lift dings, he's finally wrapping up his winded reply, and the man is pocketing his phone.

"No thanks, I'll pass."

"How old are you?" Louis rushes, halting the man from stepping out the lift.

"Twenty-eight."

"What's your name?" Louis asks hurriedly, trailing behind the man as they exit the elevator.

"Harry," he mutters as he continues in the opposite direction, only to be stopped when Louis speaks up again.

"What do you do?" Louis' large eyes of wonder rest on Harry’s briefcase unaware of the bated aggravation that still hasn't deterred him.

"I'm an attorney, goodbye."

Louis finally gets the message, "Goodnight, Harry."

He kicks his shoes into the hall closet, drops his phone and house keys on the coffee table before heading back to his bedroom. Jordy had also made his day ten times better by gifting him three new stickers. They were all going on his door. The first that he presses into the wood is a mango wearing sunglasses, the second a porcupine in a teacup, and the last a rainbow with the words happy below it. 

His stomach swoops, and his lip quirks up. "Welcome home, cuties. These are your brothers and sisters."

* * *

"Some oddball wanted to show me his stickers in the elevator. _God_ , we have to get out of this complex."

Zayn had just swallowed down a spoonful of Lucky Charms, his chuckle airy as he watched Harry throw his suit jacket and briefcase into the hall closet. "Does Counselor Styles have a menace?"

"Hope not. I can only handle one of those, and you already cost me over time." Harry badgered annoyingly, ambling to his bedroom, "He was _off_. Just another great reason to move." He emphasized loudly, emerging shortly after changing.

Zayn rolled his eyes, smiling despite Harry's irritable behavior. "We'll never find rent this cheap. Not all of us are wealthy hot-shot lawyers."

"Oh yes, some of us are struggling artists who spend most of our days smoking marijuana and having epiphanies about life."

"You're a dick." Zayn said through faint laughter, "My art will be in museums one day, so watch your fucking mouth."

"How does one watch their mouth? Once that is explained to me, I will gladly watch my mouth."

"Goodness, you're the most condescending asshole I've ever met."

Harry shrugged, "You should feel lucky. At least you aren't living with _stickers_ down the hall."

"Hmmm, what seems better, a bubbly, happy-go-lucky individual or a patronizing bastard?" Zayn played like he was thinking over his comment, side-eyeing an unimpressed Harry who sauntered into their kitchen after flipping him off.

"Indian or Mediterranean?" Harry shouted.

"Surprise me." Zayn placed the bowl of blue colored milk on their coffee table, and when Harry groaned deep and loud, he smiled.

"Why must you be an indecisive fuck?" Harry asked in a bored tone sitting next to a grinning Zayn, a pamphlet to both restaurants in each hand.

"Not indecisive, spontaneous." Zayn corrected, red-tinged eyes moving off his roommate to watch the TV screen, an episode of House. "You know, you remind me a lot of Dr. House. Your personalities are so similar; it's a bit…uncanny."

"That's clearly an insult posed as a compliment, but I won't dwell on it. We'll have Indian."

"Cool beans, man." Zayn's eyes were bleary, his right foot knocking into his glass bowl from earlier, making the leftover milk ripple. "I can eat anything right about now."

"You're unbearable, and clean up your mess." Harry muttered, pushing at a clearly stoned Zayn, and rising from the loveseat to retrieve his sneakers. "I'm getting our usual."

"Extra naan bread, please."

"I'll think about it," Harry told him, stomping his right foot into his shoe. Zayn's mantra of please the last thing he hears as he leaves.

Staring down the darkened hallway to the opposite end, Harry thought about the stilted conversation from moments earlier. He'd never seen this Louis character before tonight, but then again, today was the earliest he's been off in six months. He spent most nights at the office going over divorce petitions and settlements given to him by pushy clients. Days that tended to blend together and sometimes push into the early hours of the next. All-nighters with Liam that included greasy takeout or salty chips and candy bars from the vending machine in their waiting area.

Stickers was off his rocker, and with little time to spare, he wouldn't waste it on the _free spirit_ down the hall. He had enough on his plate.

***

"Niall just have him wait in the conference room. I'll be there in fifteen mi—." The folder he'd been thumbing through fell from his hand, papers scattered across the floor. "Fucking hell!" he hissed angrily. He abruptly ended the call, pocketing his phone and dropping to one knee, gathering up the loose articles frantically.

"Oops, I'm sorry." came a delicate voice beside him, soft giggles piercing through Harry's bout of outrage, and causing him to briefly pause his frenzied actions.

_Stickers._

He was bent down beside Harry, smelling faintly of baby lotion and sugar cookies. Fluffy gold-tinted locks falling over his eyelids, thick eyelashes meshing beautifully with his sapphire eyes framed behind chunky black glasses. His smile was gentle as he stared up at Harry before he blushed prettily and averted his gaze to the fallen items. 

Amongst Harry's papers was an array of stickers. They were all different, various glossy designs littered amongst his paperwork. He shook the miniature pictures off his documents, the disdain for them palpable.

"You should watch where you're going." Harry advised with a calm sternness, narrowed eyes watching the shorter male's blush bloom further down his neck, rising to his cheeks and making his eyes appear unreal. "You just cost me time that I do not have."

Louis scooped up a handful of stickers, dropping them in the opened cardboard box near his feet. "I apologized." Louis reminded him, that same unwavering smile landing on an agitated Harry. "Here." Louis had a sticker of a cactus wearing a blue bandana in his palm outstretched toward Harry, who was stuffing papers back into the manila folder.

Harry gave Louis' outstretched hand a disparaging glance before traveling upward to the elated face, bright eyes that hadn't dimmed at all since their fiasco. Closing the folder, Harry stood swiftly, eyes never wavering from the hand. Keeping his feigned disinterest intact, he slowly withdrew the thin icon, sliding it into the pocket of his suit. "You may have apologized, but I am still late."

***

"He's not really happy that you're late," Niall mumbled as discreetly as he could, trailing behind a frazzled Harry.

Harry glares at his assistant, who's staring anxiously around his office. "I'm here now. Also, if he's so unhappy with my tardiness, he can acquire another attorney. Problem solved."

"I know, but I just wanted to forewarn you. He was a huge dick earlier, shouting and acting snooty." Niall grumbles, arms crossed as he remembers what he endured with the man-baby.

Harry eyes the bothered man, "He yelled at you?"

Niall raced after Harry as he exited, "Harry, no, it's fine. I just—I just wanted you to know." he reassured, "Don't bite his head off. He's loaded, so just let it go."

"I don't care how much fucking money he has Niall; no one disrespects my employees."

Harry pushes open the door to his conference room, the opportunity for Niall to settle the waters one more time lost. The assistant decides to duck out while he still can before witnessing the malicious nature of his boss.

"He finally graces us with his presence." the condescending brunette grumbles, pocketing his cellphone.

Harry's irritation flares, and he bites into the side of his cheek to stop from saying the first insult pushing at the back of his teeth, begging to break free. He takes a deep breath before he speaks, "I would advise for future reference that you do not speak to my staff like you're an entitled buffoon."

Dickhead fish mouths, "Excuse me!?" he sits forward, "I'm Henry Cartwright, the owner of Cartwright Auto Sales, so I'd advise you to watch how you speak to me!"

Harry's eyes become dark, and he narrows them down on the man, "You pay me dumbass." his tone deathly low, "You want _me_ to represent you, not the other way around. So, again, I advise you to speak to my employees with respect."

He sits back, mouth still slightly ajar. It closes when Harry clicks the intercom button on the conference room phone, "Niall. Come in here, please."

Niall pushes open the conference room door, "Yes."

"Apologize to him," Harry orders. When he begins to protest Harry's demand, the lawyer raises his hand, "Apologize, or leave and take your business elsewhere."

A reddened face flitted between the two men. His battle between complying or standing his ground makes Harry smirk discreetly. "This is fucking stupid." he hissed.

"Please stop wasting my time, Mr. Cartwright. I have other cases that could be benefiting from my time. I can't spend my entire workday catering to an egotistical brat."

"Sorry, damn! There, you happy!" Cartwright exasperates loudly.

"I'm spending the next month or so working with you. I'm far from happy." Harry deadpanned, eyes skirting over to his put-out assistant, "You may go, Niall."

The closing of the door has Harry sitting down and instantly thumbing through Cartwright's divorce settlement. "Is your husband aware of this divorce?"

He's taken aback by Harry's quick change, but just like the lawyer had done, he gets right into business mode. "Yes."

"Any affairs or unplanned children I should know about?"

"Oh, um, no—I—"

"Out with it, I need to know every little detail."

"I'm having an affair, but it's not why I'm leaving him."

"It doesn't matter if it was or it wasn't. His lawyer will use it against you." Harry groaned. His pointer and middle finger press into his right temple, "Is there a prenup?"

"No. We were already married when I acquired my car lot."

Harry was still fishing for more, and it was obvious Cartwright was holding back, "And?"

"And … I didn't make him sign one because, at the time, it wasn't necessary."

Harry laughs, but it's muddied with sarcasm, "For a businessman, you aren't very smart," his eyebrows draw down, and he grimaces at the fidgety body. "I don't even know why you're here."

"Look, _man_. When you're in love, that shit is the last thing on your mind. I just … I never—I never expected to fall out of love."

Harry chuckles in aggravation, "How does one fall out of love? When you took your vows, you made a commitment.

"Hey, look! I didn't hire you to be my fucking shrink. I hired you to make sure I don’t lose all I’ve worked for!"

"How in the hell am I supposed to accomplish that when you've pretty much fucked it to shit!" Harry retorts, nostrils flared, and chest heaving. "If you come out with nothing but a pot to piss in, it'll be _your_ mistake, not mine."

"There is no prenup, so can we just move the fuck on!"

Harry didn't want to move on. He would've preferred to hurl more insults at the incompetent man's head. "Your mistake."

* * *

Louis had a rebuttal ready, but Harry was already rushing off, so he was left to stare at his retreating back instead. "Hope his day gets better."

Once all his stickers had been returned to the tan box, he smiled and stood to his feet. Louis was also running late, but he didn't care. Life always on the move didn't allow you any time to enjoy what was right in front of you. Harry seemed to have a rushed life, and as Louis drifted toward the elevator, he thought that maybe he could help the man slow it down.

"I think … he needs a day of fun." Louis voiced out loud, thin fingers swooping over and under as he braided Kaylee's soft lilac-colored curls into chunky plaits. "Maybe I should invite him out with Jordy and me tomorrow. We're going to the Exploreum."

As Kaylee hums in thought, Louis looks down at Beatrice, a beagle puppy licking at his ankle. They've only got three puppies in the kennel today, which is good. More people are adopting from them, and not the puppy mill forty miles away.

"He seems like a dick. What did Andy and Kevin say? They're your best friends." Louis tugs on a strand of her hair. "Ouch!"

"Sorry, sorry," he rushes, petting at the piece of her head that he yanked, "We're not … I'm not friends with them anymore, at least, I don’t think."

She turns and looks up at him quickly, "You're lying."

His face warms, and he instead focuses on the puppies playing, "Nope."

Louis lets her pull away from his hands. She rises from the chair, and her green eyes are pinned on him, not once wavering in their scrutiny. When he starts to fidget, she eases up and walks down the hall to stop Leo, a blind golden retriever, from walking into the cinderblock wall.

"Do I want to know?" she asks a small distance away, her question echoing faintly through the room.

Louis considers Kaylee a work friend, and he doesn't think telling her about what happened, which could bring about unwanted problems, is worth the trouble. "Nope."

"Okay." she smiles back at him, shimmying over and knocking into his shoulder. "So, in that case, I guess I would say steer clear of grumpy. You don't want to deal with anybody like that, they'll suck all that happiness right out of you, and you are way too bright for that."

He blushes hard again and twirls a piece of his hair around his shaky finger, "I'm not _that_ happy."

She shouts, which is followed up by quick laughter, "Lou, you are literally the embodiment of sunshine, so yeah, stay far away from Mr. Grumpy."

Louis smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners, his glasses scrunching up on his face. "Than-Thanks Kaylee, I'm—"

"Stop it." she raises a hand. The shaking of her head makes the uneven braids flop around, "Don't get all sappy on me."

He shoots her a thumbs up, "Right."

* * *

Harry loosens his tie, right hand gripping hard into the ridges of his iPhone case. "He's incompetent, Liam. I just know I'm going to lose."

"Are there truly any winners in divorce court, Harry?" Liam asked over the cellphone line. Harry rolled his eyes because he didn't need to see Liam to know he was wearing his condescending grin.

"My clients, no matter how much I despise most of them, not hashing out millions of dollars to their ex-spouses' counts as a win for me." the quietness across the line allowed his comment to settle, "Okay, that sounded extremely callous, but you get my point."

"Yes, I get your point, but are you willing to stand by it?"

"With risk of looking like a god-awful human being? Yes."

There was shuffling and laughing through the speaker, "You should come over for dinner, or I don't know, go out and enjoy life. Being around failed marriages can't be _healthy_."

"Fun will only aid in driving me to insanity, but I can have Niall pencil you in."

Liam laughed again, "Goodness, I thought our friendship meant more to you, young Styles."

"I'm a busy man Liam, I make exceptions for no one, not even my mother. All engagements must be accounted for. My time is precious."

"It's the weekend." Liam deadpanned.

"Weekends still have the word 'week' in them, Payne."

"Whatever, just be at my house Sunday at eight-thirty."

"I'll tell Niall."

Liam huffed in disbelief, "See you Sunday."

Immediately after hanging up, Harry pressed the intercom button on his office telephone. "Niall, clear my schedule for Sunday night."

"Okay. Also, a Frankie Johnson wants to meet with you sometime this weekend."

"Uhh," Harry stared down at the calendar laid out across his desk, "We can do tomorrow at two."

"Okay, and another thing…"

Harry sighed slowly, "Yes, Niall."

"Um, may I please go home? A new episode of—"

"You're already boring me. Just go." Harry said before Niall could start rambling, fingertips pushing at his brow line.

"Thanks, Harry."

Harry listened out for the alarm that beeped anytime the door opened. When it sounded off and then died out soon after, he took a deep breath. "Fuck."

His bones ached, and his eyes had that pins and needles feel to them as he stared hard at the papers laid all over his desk. His forest irises moved over the small box at the bottom of his desktop screen. "Goodness, already ten-thirty." the urge to call it a night grew the longer he eyed the time. The ache in his body grew the longer he sat stationary.

"Fuck it." he huffed, sliding the paperwork back into one pile and standing slowly from his swivel chair. His back and knees crack beautifully on his ascend, and he shakes his limbs slightly just to ease the pent up feeling in his bones.

He lifts his suit jacket and down flutters the sticker he'd been gifted earlier. The first thing that flashes in his mind are the iridescent blue eyes that he must admit in his own privacy were quite beautiful, and the smile that's itching to break out across his face is beat down by that part of him that doesn't want to be amused. However, as he peels off the back paper and presses it down on the corner of his desk calendar, he thinks that a cactus is very fitting for him. "He's still quite ... _eccentric_."

On the way to his car he list in his head all the reasons he placed the sticker on his desk, but none of them negate the fact or idea that he is entertaining _stickers_ and his hobby when he shouldn't be.

"Siri, call Zayn."

He answers on the third ring, "Yo."

"I'm leaving work. Did you cook?"

"Made my world-famous crunchwraps, and before you write them off, I must say that I truly outdid myself."

"You're lucky that I'm way too tired to stop, so your college boy food will suffice."

Zayn cackles, "See you in five."

***

Louis adjusts his backpack strap as he stands to get off the bus. He glances at his watch, an immediate frown falling on his lips. Louis didn't like being out later than ten, and the time was pushing eleven. The cages were disgusting, and although that's a job for the weekend crew, he and Kaylee couldn't leave the puppies in filth.

He waves back at Dorinda. "You be careful, kid." she advises him with a tired smile.

"Always! See you tomorrow Dori."

He shoots her another minute wave before he heads in the direction of home. It's late, and he feels extremely overworked, but he still manages to keep a smile on his face as he enters the gate of his complex. His fingers dance through the overgrown shrubs leading up the path to the double doors, and he's alone on the elevator, reaching out to press his floor when Harry ambles through looking just as tired as Louis feels.

"Hi, Harry." he greets quietly, the happiness to see his floor neighbor still evident. His head feels too heavy to travel up the man's frame and look him in the face. "Did your day get any better?"

Harry groans shortly, the eye roll unnoticed. "Not you again."

Louis jostles when the elevator begins the upward rise, "Yes, me again. I do live here." his giggles are faint dustings in the calm atmosphere.

Harry rubs his eyes, "Thanks for reminding me." he rolls his shoulders, the fatigue incessant, "And to answer your earlier question, no, it did not." he pinned a bored gaze on the small man until the petite man was frowning, and Harry had to force himself to look up at the changing numbers.

"M'sorry," Louis said with all the sincerity he could muster. It was a tender and melodic apology that had Harry, for a split second, dropping his designated asshole act.

Harry sighs and tries to give Louis some semblance of a smile. "It's fine. I just hate my career some days."

When the lift dinged, Harry let Louis exit first. His eyes travel briefly over the man's ass, which Harry could admit secretly of course, was phenomenal. He pulled them away reluctantly when Louis started talking again.

"You never told me what type of law you practice."

"I'm a divorce attorney."

"Oof, that's no fun…definitely explains your bad day."

"Exactly." Harry agreed, his tone deprecating as he rubbed over his face. "Eight years in, and I'm still trying to understand the complexities of human relationships."

Louis looks up at the mottled brown ceiling, assessing the spiderweb cracks throughout the infrastructure. "Love is a beautiful thing, but it can also be sad sometimes."

Harry lets loose a dry laugh before he really scrutinizes the man, because he doesn't truly believe this is a twenty-four-year-old. Honestly, the guy is so fresh-faced and propitious that Harry is baffled as well as slightly intrigued. He's got a black Jansport backpack littered in stickers tossed over his shoulder, and the distressed skinny jeans with holes at the knees are rolled up to reveal dainty ankles. Green orbs travel higher to the oversized white crewneck with the word 'smile' stitched into the fabric, pink and loopy cursive. No matter how Harry wanted to see Louis, he was breathtaking. A surprise for the lawyer to think seeing that optimist wasn't his type.

"It's a waste of time." he finally responds bluntly, his voice even and precise. "Divorce is a testament to that."

When Louis frowned, shiny eyes staring at him blankly, Harry felt _off_. "Not true, Harry." when he finally smiles, Harry relaxes again. "Divorce just proves that sometimes, and in some cases, people don't get it right the first time around."

Harry's laugh was short chuckles until he thought about some of his more extreme clients, and his laughter grew. Grew to the point his stomach was uncomfortable, and his cheeks ached. He exhaled after the last chuckle. "Oh god, for an adult, you sure are…naïve."

Louis frowned again, and Harry couldn't ignore it, so the agitation from before was back. "Am not."

Harry looked behind him in the direction of his apartment. "Have you actually been in a relationship before?"

The grimace deepened, and Harry wanted to break out of his skin. "Well, n-no, but I—"

"Point proven." He interjected, keeping his eyes far away from the face that was making his insides churn. "I rarely get cases where they're splitting up for the better. It's usually over a bastard child or an affair gone awry."

Harry releases the breath he was holding when Louis finally smiles big and wide. "I don't need to have been in a relationship to know love is beautiful, Harry." He wrings his hands together, and when he leans forward on his toes, Harry catches the briefest smell of Johnson and Johnson. "When you fall in love, you'll see it from my point of view."

Harry drops the intense gaze, "Highly doubtful, but I just love that auspicious spirit of yours."

Louis obviously can't detect the sarcasm because his smile grows even more significant, and he blushes shyly. "Thank you."

Harry smirks because this must be a joke. "Goodnight, Louis."

When his right hand is gripped, Harry stops himself from yanking the pixie close. Louis' hands are warm and weirdly comforting. It's released way too soon for his liking. "Oh, um, I—I wanted to invite you somewhere tomorrow. It's through my job, but it'd just be me, you, and my friend."

Harry's giving Louis a look of disbelief. "You have a job?"

Louis throws him a scowl that's anything but threatening. He can't even hold it for long because he giggles. "Mhmm. I'm an aid at a nursing home Monday thru Thursday."

Harry's eyebrows rise, "Why is that so _fitting_ for you."

"Anyways, I'm taking my patient, Jordy, to an interactive museum tomorrow morning, and then we usually get lunch and take a walk around lake—" Louis doesn't realize he's rambling, his eyes boring into his scuffed converse. His glasses begin to slide, so he quickly pushes them upward with his knuckle. "—He might convince me to go in a couple shops, so we might do that, and he'll probably want ice cream from Jake's, which he can't—"

"I'm busy." Harry interrupts.

The little 'o' shape shouldn't be endearing to Harry, but it is. Until Louis frowns and then allows his face to go completely blank. "Oh, okay. G-Goodnight."

Harry doesn't quickly turn his back and walk away. He instead watches Louis hurry down the opposite end of the hallway and promptly push inside his apartment. He stands for a minute longer, and the terrible taste in his mouth that he expects to subside doesn't, so he finally turns to make his way to his own doorstep.

***

"I was beginning to worry you'd been offed by one of your client's disgruntled ex-spouses," Zayn yells as Harry passes him up on the way to his bedroom.

"I would never get so lucky."

The loud cackles bring a brief smile to his lips. It's gone the minute he remembers Louis' dejected face, and now instead he's grimacing. It was all he could mull over as he showered and slid in his pajamas. That face of happiness plummeting so fastly into sadness eats at his conscience that he groans softly on his way back to the front of the apartment.

"Food's in the oven. Everything to put on them is in the fridge."

"Thanks." Harry sighs.

Zayn leans forward because he's expecting a drier response than that, like a complaint about the food. He keeps his eyes on the lawyer up until he's sitting next to him on their couch. "Uh, you…okay?"

"I saw stickers again." Harry eats two bites of his crunchwrap.

That explains everything, so Zayn relaxes and smirks discreetly. "Oh yeah, your apartment nemesis."

Harry gives the artist a scowl, "Watch it."

Zayn chuckles as he holds his hands up in surrender. "I'm done."

"So yeah, anyway, we were talking, and he's definitely something—" Harry pauses and thinks about before, then Zayn's staring at him with this look Harry despises. "—Well, he invited me out tomorrow morning, and I said no, but now—"

"Aww, does Counselor Styles finally have a heart."

Harry rises to take his plate to the kitchen, "Never talking to you again."

Zayn quickly follows the grumbling man, laughing loudly. "Dude, dude, I'm sorry it just caught me off guard. You never talk to me about your feelings."

"Hey!" Harry throws a finger up into Zayn's face, "I was not talking about _feelings_."

Zayn wants to correct him that they were, but the glare Harry's giving him makes him decide otherwise. "Well, look, you're always busy, and he doesn't know that, so just explain it to him tomorrow or you know, leave him a note on his door."

"A note!" Harry's rushing out of the kitchen and to the hallway where he slips into his sneakers, a baffled Zayn watching from the kitchen entry.

"H, I meant tomorrow."

Harry waves the man away, grabs his keys and wallet, and heads out the door. When he pulls up to the 24-hour arts and crafts store that's two buildings down from his law office, he reevaluates what he's doing exactly. He owes Louis nothing, they aren't friends, and he'll never see the male outside of their complex, so why does he feel the need to overcompensate.

Then those big blues flash through his head. "Oh, that's why. He's fucking _radiant_." Harry grouches to himself, heading into the store with a frown.

He doesn't know what to grab or how many to buy, so he goes with his gut. His gut has him buying one of each from the aisle. It's twelve when he finally makes his way out of the little shop, a large brown paper bag filled to the brim with stickers.

At first, he feels like he's fucked because he may have seen Louis go into an apartment, but it's blurry on which one. That is until he approaches the last door on the hall, and it's got a few stickers surrounding the peephole. Harry tries his hardest to hold down his smile as he places the bag at the door. He contemplates leaving a note but decides not to, he doesn't want to give the ball of sunshine any indication that he felt bad.

***

Louis hasn't cried this hard in so long that when he presses his back to his apartment door, slides down, and bawls like a baby, he's more than surprised. It's not like he didn't expect Harry to decline, but it was how fast he did it that bothered Louis most. He gets over it quickly, though, and after a warm bath and eating a bowl of Trix, he concludes that Kaylee was right.

He's watching YouTube when he hears shuffling outside his apartment door. Immediately he assumes it's Kenny and Andy because he's been ignoring them ever since they ruined his trust, and it wouldn't surprise him if they showed up unannounced. When he finally approaches the door and peaks out the peephole, the hallway is empty. Frowning, he opens it slowly and can barely catch the paper bag leaning against his entrance.

His excitement was almost difficult to tame as he carried the bag to his living room coffee table, and it's a long, warm hug when he dumps them out. They're all different, and his sour mood is immediately replaced with immense happiness.

"Maybe they are sorry," Louis mumbles as he passes a finger over a Ferris wheel.

He goes to text the two men but thinks it'll be better if he tells them face to face tomorrow before he heads to get Jordy. He snuggles under his covers with a smile, and it stays pressed into his pillow the entire night.

"We're so sorry, Lou. We just wanted you to get better." Andy says.

"I am better. My stickers make me better." Louis emphasizes.

"So, you honestly think we would get rid of the bastards just to bring you more?" Kenny chimes in, giving Louis one of his looks that he only gives to people he finds incompetent.

"Oh, I just thought—never mind." he peered at his watch, fixing his glasses, and heading for the front door. "I have to—go."

"Nice going dickhead." Andy groused, following Louis. "Lou, we don't care about that shit. We just want to be friends with you again."

Louis grips the strap of his messenger bag tight, his empty hand reaching out for the doorknob, but averting to rub over a large sticker on the front flap instead. "That's just it, D." Louis huffs, turning to eye both men up, "You don't care about this, and _this_ is a part of me."

He doesn't want to stick around for the apologies, he should've known they wouldn't have done something so thoughtful. Louis' almost tempted to cancel again, go home, and just hide under his covers. Except, Jordy hasn't been outside the facility in nearly two weeks, and he was able to lift Louis' spirits last time, so he can't bail on the man now.

"People suck," Jordy says when they're eating their cones and walking through the downtown shops. "The ones who vow to stick by you and don't, suck the worse."

Louis licks at his mint chocolate cone, "They were everything to me, especially when I couldn't be everything for myself."

"But that's just it, cookie. You're so much better now, and you can be everything." he squeezes at Louis' hand before taking two big bites out of his strawberry.

"Jor, how do you manage to bite your ice cream?" Louis fakes a shudder before grinning.

"It's all in the fake teeth, kid, plus when Leo and I would go out for ice cream, he'd take big bites out of mine. It was the only way I could get back at the bastard, so I was converted."

"Was Leo ever mean to you?" Louis asked softly, mind thinking of a certain stony-faced brunette.

"Mean how?"

"I dunno."

Jordy frowns as he thinks, "Leo never did anything to intentionally hurt me. He was easily bothered, and his temper made me want to knock his head off his shoulders sometimes, but man could he pull off an apology." Louis laughs gently before he smiles. "He'd go out of his way to make me smile, never downplayed his wrongs, and always told me he'd be better. I was never worried because one thing about Leo, he kept his word."

"I … like someone, but he's a bit ... blunt."

"Hmm." Jordy took another bite of ice cream, "Is it purposefully directed towards you?"

Louis looked to the sky, "Uhhh, I don't think so."

"Keep being you cookie, and he's sure to come around." Jordy smiles over at Louis. "You've got something about you kiddo, he's probably already fallen and just hasn't realized it."

He blushes so profoundly that his cheeks feel warm. "Thanks, Jor."

* * *

"So, Zayn tells me you've got a crush on someone in your building." Liam's laughing immediately after his statement because Harry looks like he could kill.

"Zayn is a lackadaisical stoner whose word isn't believable." the lawyer grits angrily. "Louis is not my type."

"If he weren't your type, you wouldn't have called him by his name. You would've used something a little bit more—"

"Demeaning!" Yamina yells from the kitchen before appearing in the dining room. She places dinner on the table, and Harry doesn't even acknowledge her comment, just begins piling food on his plate.

"Louis' personality is too _benevolent_. He also has some questioning views pertaining to love and relationships that don't align anywhere with mine. Also, he smiles way too much for a world doused in detestable actions and conditions—" Liam thinks the man is finished and goes to chime in about something different. "—He smells like a baby who's been dipped in cookie dough for god's sake. He even has this sticker collection that shouldn't be a thing, but _is_ , and I—"

"Geez, dude, we get it." Yamina’s black shoulder-length curls frame her face as she peers down at Harry. She rolls her hazel eyes and gives him a mischievous smirk. "You're head over heels."

Harry frowns again and almost bends his fork out of shape. "You're the worst." he looks over at Liam, who's trying to suppress his own laughter. "Both of you."

"I'm happy for you, H, just, don't run him off and don't be so much _you_."

"No!" Yamina shakes her head quickly. "Don't be you at all if you want to keep him around."

"Ha." He tells her bluntly, shovels in rice and beans to stop himself from jumping on the defense.

* * *

Louis gets another bag of stickers the following week. The first is on Monday morning, and it's just as full as the one from Friday night, except the stickers inside are different. He doesn't realize how much time he spends basking over his new babies until it's time for him to head to work.

Ripped jeans, dirty vans, and his pink and yellow tie-dye crewneck with 'happy' in loopy black letters across the front is his outfit of choice. He slathers his exposed ankles and wrist in baby lotion because it's the only cream that doesn't make his skin itch. He then sprays himself in his sugar cookie body spray from Bath and Body Works and grabs his DD perks card to grab him and Jordy breakfast. He snags up the first metal lunchbox he sees and leaves.

It's as he's waiting for the elevator that he notices Harry approaching. He's on the phone and in deep conversation, so Louis just keeps to himself. They haven't had any other run-ins since Friday, which, on Louis' part, was purposeful. He's gotten better at gauging when someone doesn't like him or his _happiness_ , and even though Harry hasn't said that straight out, his brusque attitude does the job.

"Good morning, Louis."

He shoots wide eyes up at Harry, whose phone is no longer pressed to his ear but being slid in the inside pocket of his suit jacket. When the lift dings, Louis breaks out of his shock and shuffles into the elevator. "Good morning Harry."

"How was your weekend?"

Louis looks up at the man again. He’s stunningly dressed, fitted black dress pants, and a sheer white top under a navy blue jacket. His hair is slicked back and his beard has been trimmed down. He feels weird because Harry still looks uninterested, but he asked Louis a question, not the other way around.

"Um, pretty good. I spent Saturday with Jordy, and then Sunday I added some new stickers to my door and lunchbox."

"New stickers?"

"Oh, yeah, um, somebody has been leaving me bags of stickers at my door." Louis rubs his thumb over a banana split emblem. "I thought it was someone else, but it isn't, so I can't thank whoever it is."

Harry nods, a large hand rubbing over his bearded face, and then he finally looks down at the fidgety man. "Do you like them?"

"Oh, most definitely!" Louis smiles big, and Harry's heart somersaults, "They help me, and that's why I wish I could tell whoever it is that I'm so-so grateful."

Harry can't ask the sticker lover why they are important because the lift shakes and settles before opening its metal doors. Louis steps out and gazes up at Harry with a subtle grin. "H-have a good day, Harry. I really enjoyed talking to you."

"You have a good one as well," Harry said, giving a curt nod before rushing outside to his car.

***

"He was a lot nicer today," Louis tells Jordy. They're sitting out under the terrace eating the half-dozen box of donuts Louis brought, three of their favorites each. "He asked about my stickers. He didn't smile or anything, but he seemed interested in what I had to say." Louis can't help the goofy grin that rises to his lips. "I like him a lot. A lot Jordy."

"Shouldn't you be falling for the dope that's leaving the stickers outside your door?" Jordy asks, biting into a Boston crème. "I mean, that screams future son-in-law to me."

Louis smirks at Jordy's wording. "I guess you're right. I'll have to form a stakeout and find out the culprit. They have to live in the building, but I talk to so many residents I can't even begin to make a clear assumption."

"Well, gay, that's your first clear one." Jordy chimes in, laughing at Louis' frowny face.

"Thanks for the obvious."

He finishes off his second donut and smiles. "Of course, cookie."

* * *

"Haz, you've got a thank you basket on your desk from Cartwright. I think he's got a crush on you now." Niall tells the man as he waltzes inside.

"Entitled cheaters aren't my type." Harry quips as he walks into his office. He groans at the large basket sat in the middle of his desk.

He goes to throw the entire thing out until the two jars of local honey catch his eye, and he makes the exception. He grabs the two glass containers out and clicks the intercom for Niall. "You can have it," he tells the brunette as he places the honey jars on his bookshelf.

"Thanks, boss," Niall chirps with a bright smile. Harry manages a straight-laced grin back before he gets started on reviewing Johnson's case.

He's about three good hours into his work when he gets distracted by his mind, or maybe he gets distracted because he keeps staring down at the cactus sticker and being reminded of a certain someone. His mind plagued with the smile Louis wore as he talked about the secret stickers he's been receiving—the stickers Harry has been intentionally leaving the man. He wanted to see that smile again, and he was feeling slightly reckless because he wanted to see that smile in the flesh, during the moment Louis got them. Harry groaned because, again, that was reckless.

Even after his conclusion, he still finds himself looking for stickers online. He'd pretty much cleaned out the store next to his firm, so now he had to find other options. His other options came in the form of a website called Etsy, and now his cart was almost totaling a little over a thousand.

"Why are you buying a surplus of stickers?" Niall asked over Harry's shoulder.

Harry minimizes the browser and glares up at Niall, who has his lunch he'd ordered in his hand. "Why are you snooping?"

"I wasn't, so again, why are you buying thousands of dollars in stickers?"

"Don't worry about it." Harry grits, grabbing the bag of food.

"So, can I use company time to e-shop too?"

"Get out, Niall," Harry shouts, frowning at the retreating back of his giggling assistant. He rubs at his forehead, and when he's sure the man isn't going to make another abrupt return, he goes to check out. After placing his order that should arrive in two days, he kicks himself because he sure wishes he could see Louis' face when he gets them.

* * *

It's not until day three of his stakeout that Louis' world is flipped upside down. He'd almost gotten to the point of thinking that whoever had been leaving him the heartfelt gifts were closing up shop. Then Wednesday evening came. He'd been just about to cuddle up on his couch and enjoy his Michelina pizza roll TV dinner alongside a glass of water, when he heard shuffling outside the door. It took him an entire minute to break out of the cover mountain he'd been in, as well as safely place his food on the coffee table. He didn't even brace himself for who could be on the other side. He was undeterred by the fact he was in his pajamas, an x-large white Kiss t-shirt he'd gotten from the thrift store, black biker shorts, and knee-high socks that had 'be kind' at the top. He just swung his door open with the biggest smile.

It fell the minute he processed that it was Harry, the man who didn't like him or his hobby, with a padded mailbag in his hand. The green eyes rolled, and that made Louis frown even more.

"H-Harry are you," he focuses on his finger beginning to chip at the paint on his front door. "Is this a joke?"

Harry sighed in disbelief, "You honestly think that I would spend almost two grand on stickers as a joke?"

Louis shrugs, wrapping his arms around himself and stepping back into the comfort of his apartment. "I dunno. You were pretty mean before, so I'm just…"

"I wasn't—" he sighs, "I was a pretentious dickhead who also has a mundane personality." Harry looked Louis in the face, "I'm sorry."

Louis' cheeks color red, and he squeezes his body. "Than-thank you, Harry. Do you want to come in? I'm having dinner."

Harry declines with a slow headshake, and when he sees Louis beginning to frown again, he speaks up. "I can't tonight, but my roommate is sleeping over at a friend's tomorrow, and I'll have the place to myself. I can cook us dinner?"

"That sounds lovely," Louis whispers. When he grins up at the brunette, Harry's heart swells. "I can't wait. Is it okay if I come over around eight?"

"That'll be perfect." Harry extends the jiffy that's filled with the stickers from the online shop. "Here you are."

Louis smiles even bigger. A smile so broad that it makes his eyes crinkle and briefly hides his oceans of blue. "Night, Harry. See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow."

* * *

"So, I have to be gone for the entire night?" Zayn asked slowly as he slipped into his jacket.

"Yes, go stay with Niall. He's been missing you," Harry groans. He ushers the man towards the front door. "Please, for your safety, do not return to this apartment."

"Wow, dude. I've never seen you so _flustered_." Zayn laughs when Harry glares at him, "It looks good on you, man. I can't wait to meet stickers."

"Do. Not. Return." Harry says again before closing the door on his grinning roommate's face.

Harry stares at the closed door. He _is_ flustered, which bothers him more than it should because, well, he's never flustered. Louis is still not someone he plans on being long-term with; he just needs a warm body to make the stresses at work not seem so suffocating. Besides, Louis' just _too_ happy. He wouldn't be able to consistently take that much happiness, probably wouldn't ever see the man get upset or angry, which would just bother him overtime. Harry needs someone who realizes that life is a poorly scripted horror film and not a never-ending reel of running through fields of flowers.

His hands are sweatier than he expects when it’s five to eight. He made steak with a simple side salad and dinner rolls. He almost misses the light successions of knocks that rain down on his door because he's too busy scrutinizing the set-up. Before he answers, he assesses his reflection in the hallway mirror. Navy blue dress pants and a simple white dress shirt rolled to his elbows. His hair is slicked, and he'd trimmed his beard down a tad just so it wasn't too bushy.

"Good evening Lou—" Harry's eyes were traveling way before his words could finish forming. He was surprised because every time he's run into Louis, his clothes have always swamped his petite frame. However, now, he was dressed stunningly. Black fitted jean capris, a loose gray crop top with a Rose embroidered on the front, and red converse. Harry's irises stayed on the golden flat tummy. He wanted to lick whip cream or any kind of sweet condiment for that matter out of the concave of Louis' belly. He had a small black backpack on his right shoulder that was covered in the signature stickers. "—Louis. Good evening."

"Hi, Harry," Louis mumbled, rubbing at his forearm, and shifting on his feet. He looks over the lawyer's shoulder, which clues Harry in on what he was doing.

"Shit, my apologies. Come on in." Harry willed himself not to look down at Louis' backside, but he never claimed to be a saint, and he's glad he allowed himself the opportunity because holy fuck, what an ass. "Uh, how was your day?"

"Pretty good. Jordy and I finally reorganized his closet." Louis put his bag on the hallway table and headed further inside the apartment. "How about you?"

"Eh, it was work. I'm balancing four cases right now so, fun times." Harry joked, trying to ease a smile onto his face. Louis didn't seem convinced considering the strained smile he gave.

"Well, we don't have to have dinner tonight if you're busy. I wouldn't want you to get behind on your work." Louis tells him, glimmering eyes peering up at Harry.

"Not to sound too cocky, but I'm pretty damn good at my job, so we can have dinner."

Louis giggles prettily, delicate hand covering his mouth. "Okay."

"Alright then, right this way. I've got the table ready, and the steaks are in the oven staying warm. So, just have a seat, enjoy your salad and the rolls while I get the main course. Oh, and the vinaigrette is homemade."

Louis nods, sitting down, and immediately grabbing a roll from the basket. He moans just as Harry is headed towards the kitchen. The sound has Harry faltering, reaching out for the wall, and turning his head back to stare at the smiling fay. "These are yummy."

"Thanks," Harry mumbled, hurrying into the kitchen to fix his bulge. He took a few deep breaths before retrieving the steaks from the oven and heading back into the dining area. "Alright, dinner is served."

When Harry was seated, Louis thanked him and began to cut his steak up. Harry had already devoured a quarter of his when he noticed Louis gazing at him shyly. "Something wrong? Too pink?"

"Oh no, it's looks and smells phenomenal. I just—do you have any ranch?"

Harry was only a man changed so much, and the dumbfounded gaze he gave Louis had the man's cheeks turning ruby. "Ranch."

"Mhmm, ranch. I like it with my steak."

Harry shook his head, baffled by what he was hearing. "You don't—" he released a short sarcastic laugh. "—You don't put _ranch_ on steak. It's a meat best ate alone."

Louis rolled his eyes, "So, no ranch?"

Harry frowned, grumbles igniting as he ambled his way back into the kitchen. "Ranch with steak." he scoffed quietly, "Unbelievable."

It was hard for Harry to watch Louis dip each morsel of steak in the god-awful white substance. Every time he wanted to beg the man to stop, he'd stare up at Harry with those galaxy irises and settle any upset Harry might have had.

"It's so good, Harry, you're an amazing cook. I'm total shit in the kitchen." Louis confessed, pink cheeks illuminated by the warm light.

"I have a bottle of red we can pop open if you want?" He goes to stand when Louis stops him.

"I'm not having alcohol right now. I just switched medications, and I kind of want to get used to taking it first."

Harry's puzzled face watches Louis', who's still happily munching on his dinner. "Medication? If you don't mind me asking."

"Oh yeah, no, you're fine. It's for my anxiety." Louis clears up, still undeterred by Harry, who's putting all the information together.

"No fucking way." Louis' eyes are wide, and he's smirking subtlety up at Harry. "No way—you—you're joking."

"Nope."

"Fuck." Harry ran his hands through his hair and down his face. "I was so shitty to you."

"Please, please, please don't try to rewind," Louis whined softly, dipping his last piece of steak in the ranch puddle. "It makes it obvious that you think something's wrong with me when you rewind."

"I'm not _rewinding_. I'm just realizing that I'm a dickhead."

Louis shrugged. "Eh, I've experienced worst. You just seem blunt, not mean, besides I still thought you were cute."

Harry pauses his freakout and gazes heatedly at Louis. "Just cute?"

Louis shifts in his seat, "Other things too."

"Same goes for you," Harry added, dark eyes on a squirmy Louis. "Would you like to stay?"

"I didn't bring any pj's." Louis breathes out, his own eyes steady on the tall brunette.

"That's no problem."

***

They're at opposite ends of Harry's couch when they first start the movie. It's Anchorman, Louis' pick over Harry's choice for Children of the Corn. Then Louis asks for a change of clothes, and when he reemerges from Harry's guest bathroom in one of his gym t-shirts and barely noticeable boxers, he pats his thigh and gives the shy male a sultry smirk.

"Come here."

"No funny business, I'm not that easy," Louis whispers as he sits slowly down into the warm lap. "Just want a cuddle. Haven't had one in a while."

Harry rolls his eyes at Louis's back because the last thing he wants to do right now is _cuddle_. He wants to get his hands on the ass pressed close to his cock. "You want to spend the night and cuddle?"

"Mhmm." Louis hums, leaning back and laying his head on Harry's left shoulder. "Belly rubs?"

Harry goes to groan but thinks maybe if he indulges the man, he'll get to indulge in his body. "Fine, but only a few."

He rubs Louis tummy the entire duration of the movie, and he's so comfortable that he doesn't even notice that sex is the last thing on his mind as they laugh and enjoy the film. Any time he would go to stop the light rubbing, Louis would whine softly, and Harry would immediately continue. They watch two more films, both Louis' picks, and cuddle closer with no funny business.

Halfway through the third, Louis dozes off, and Harry carries him to his bedroom where they fall asleep with again no sex. It's as he's setting his alarm for tomorrow morning that he realizes this is the first date he's had in over three years that didn't have an end result of some sort of coitus. He reaches deep down in himself to be bothered, but when Louis rolls over and snuggles close, he loses grip of it and shuts his own eyes instead.

Harry enjoys having Louis in his bed. The man is so tiny and compact that it's easy to forget he's even there, and the only time Louis' remembered is when he comes to cuddle back up to Harry in the middle of the night. He's colder than Harry, so the lawyer always braces himself for the icy feet that slide in between his calves for warmth. He smells so good that Harry can't help but dive his nose into the feathery strands of hair.

He doesn't need this, though. He needs quickies and lovers who can understand that he doesn't do the long-term attachment. Staring down at Louis, whose thick eyelashes rest delicately against his high cheekbones, that seem to be rosy even in the morning light, he can't even fathom how he'll just let this taper off.

The blues that eventually peak up at him make the brunette smile slightly. "Good morning, Bumble." Louis' eyes expand briefly before he calms and instead smiles gently up at Harry, who can't believe he let the nickname slip.

Louis rubs at his eye, an airy yawn falling past his lips. "Morning. How did you sleep?"

"Very good. You're a phenomenal cuddler."

"I know," Louis reveals, laughing when Harry eyebrows rise. "Wanna go get some breakfast?"

Harry has the decline aimed and ready, but he makes the mistake of looking into Louis' lucent blue eyes that seem to be sparkling although Harry's curtains are drawn, and the room is still fairly dark. "Sure. Where do you want to go?"

"Dunkin'." Louis suggests as he rises out of bed, "There's one right on Baker. Which is right near the bus stop I take for work."

Harry's so enamored by the sticker lover that he eases off his mattress as well and pulls Louis close before he can dart into Harry's bathroom to change. "Hold on, what time do you have to be in?"

"Nine. I usually get on the bus at 8:30, just in case traffic's bad or something."

"Well, my firm is on Baker, so we can head out now, pick up Dunkin' and just hang out in my office until you have to catch the bus. My first client meeting is at ten."

Louis stares up at Harry whose holding him a lot closer than a few minutes ago. "Sounds perfect." he looks down at Harry's chest briefly before back up at the mildly austere eyes. "I want a kiss."

"What do you say?" Harry says, his dominant edge appearing entirely on its own.

"Please."

Harry's not the least bit surprised that Louis' lips are as soft as they are. Everything else about the man is dreamy, so he wouldn't expect his lips to be nothing short of the same. They're slightly cold, but Harry's warmth makes up for it, and it's also clear Louis is not only inexperienced but extremely submissive. He goes pliant instantly, and Harry, always the dominant being, has no problem taking charge and guiding Louis' lips along. It takes everything to break apart.

Louis whimpers and grabs up two handfuls of Harry's white t-shirt, standing on his tip-toes to get another taste. "P-Please."

"No, Bumble. We have to go get breakfast."

Louis nods slowly and turns to head into the bathroom. He stops and gives Harry another hopeful gaze, which makes the lawyer smile. "How about later?"

"If you're lucky," Harry tells him.

***

Louis loves Dunkin', and the employees love him too because Harry hasn't seen someone order so much food from a mediocre donut shop, and minimum wage employees be so excited to see one customer. They know him by name, and they know his order by heart. Harry adds on a large black coffee and bagel with cream cheese before paying.

Louis' flashing him a pink and orange card with a frown when they step away from the cashier. "I have my perks card. I could've paid."

"It's fine. You deserve it."

When they're leaving out, Louis pulls his strawberry donut from his bag and takes a big bite. He offers the treat up to Harry, who declines. "I'm not really a sweets guy."

"Come on." Louis takes another bite, then offers it back up to Harry. "One bite, for me?"

Harry huffs with exaggeration before taking a large bite of the sweet bread, "Happy?"

Louis gives him a big grin and finishes the donut off, "Mhmm."

When they’re in front of Harry's firm he ushers Louis into the building. He sees Niall at his desk, the surprise on his assistant's face makes him sigh in disdain. He's still got his hand on Louis' lower back, and the man is too busy drinking his iced coffee and peering at the walls covered in degrees and accolades to notice the insinuating looks Niall's passing him.

Niall's up and in front of Louis before Harry can sweep him into his office. "Hi, I'm Niall."

"Louis." he greets with a smile, wiping his wet hand on his jeans before shaking the extended hand.

Niall stares at Harry first, then puts his eyes back on Louis, who's draped in one of Harry's old band t-shirts that's knotted at the side. The brunette notices the bag covered in stickers and smiles big. "You're…new."

"Enough, Niall. Stay away from my office, understood?"

Niall's still assessing Louis, who's wrapped close to Harry and too occupied with looking around to catch what is transpiring. "Understood, boss."

"He was nice. I've never been in a law office before," Louis says as he takes out his breakfast. Two egg and cheese wraps, an order of hashbrowns, another donut that's chocolate sprinkle, and ketchup.

"It's a very dull environment. Lots of meetings and egocentric clients," Harry tells him as he slathers his bagel in cream cheese. "Is the nursing home your only occupation?"

Louis giggles and Harry's bored confusion makes him stop, and instead busy himself with making a ketchup puddle on the crinkle paper. "You said occupation."

"That's the correct terminology."

Louis giggles again, "Yeah, I know, it was just funny serious Sally. But yeah—no, it's not. I volunteer at an animal shelter on Fridays."

Harry pouts at the nickname, before slathering the other half of his bagel. "How good a samaritan of you."

"You have very dry humor."

"I know, and you're doing better than most. Seriously though, that's amazing."

Louis' balling up his trash when he grins Harry's way. "Thanks, Counselor Styles. It's nice to give back and we've been inspiring more people to adopt from us than the puppy mill." he stands, waltzing over to the trash can and studying the large bookcase on his way. His eyes eventually land on the two jars of honey. Louis points them out and smiles at Harry, who has moved behind his desk to get ready for the workday. "You like honey?"

Harry wills himself not to blush because he'd forgotten about the jars he snatched from the treat basket. His eyes catch on the sticker he'd gotten from the man a few days back, and he quickly covers it up. "Yes, I do enjoy it."

"I know how to make a bee-friendly version. I learned from Jordy, he used to make it with his husband."

"How does one make honey _bee-friendly_?"

"It's hard to explain, but it involves dandelions. I'll make you some, and if you like it, we can make another batch together."

"Is this your way of planning a second date?"

Louis' head ducked down into his shoulders. "If you're … up for it."

With a glance down at his watch Harry notes that it's getting close to the time for Louis to leave. He joins the man in the middle of his office and grabs him just as firmly as he had back in his apartment. "I might be."

"Okay," Louis says, nodding gently before leaning his head back. "Goodbye kiss?"

Harry doesn't make Louis wonder or wait, just kisses him with a deep burning that makes the shorter male's knees tremble. It's languid, but hard, just enough for them both to want more. "I'll walk you out, and if you write your number down, I'll let you know about a second date."

"O-Okay." Louis pants, forehead pressed to Harry's chest.


	2. Chapter 2

The second date opens the floodgates for many after. Harry, along the way, learns just how uncomfortable Louis is when placed in social settings for prolonged portions of time, so he usually cooks dinner for them at his apartment when he can convince Zayn to crash somewhere else. On the off occasion he can't bully his roommate into disappearing for two days; they settle up in Louis' apartment. At first, the overly cluttered, as well as, colorful space made Harry recoil, but now, it's a surprisingly weird comfort spot.

He found comfort in the red and green bins stacked high against the wall in Louis' tiny living room, comfort in the bedroom door almost filled completely with a broad range of brightly colored stickers, and comfort in the fairy lights hung over his white headboard, and around his windowsill. He even found solace in the faint smell of cookies and baby lotion in the air that always lingered on Louis' body. It was a home, one that was weirdly put together, but nevertheless, a home.

The first few occasions when they crashed at Louis' Harry couldn't help but cringe. He'd adapted to the area, but not to the consistent untidiness that greeted him. It wasn't even that the place was dirty, it was just very clear that the stickers weren't a small hobby, but a huge part of Louis' life. If it wasn't a sea of them across the living room carpet, he could find them peaking out of nooks and crannies around the apartment; random ones pasted on his fridge doors or on cabinets, and even in his bathroom on the toilet seat lid, or the mirror.

But, he never uttered his disdain for the place aloud all because it was so _Louis._ That fact alone made it easy to look past all the clutter and enjoy what was clearly the boy's safe haven. It was also slightly due to the first day Harry entered the dwelling, and watched Louis make himself small in his own oasis, immediately braced for the judgement. When that happened it didn't matter how he felt about the place, he just knew he never wanted to see his boy hunch in on himself like that again. That's also why he makes it a point to comment on them and buy Louis as many as his little heart desires. Even if he doesn't understand them and Louis' anxiety completely, when Louis smiles brighter than the sun, sharp white teeth on display and his eyes sparkle with their signature side crinkles, Harry understands that.

Louis was more than just the timid boy he'd met on the elevator those weeks back, and Harry kind of still mentally kicks himself for writing the man off so easily. Where Harry expected them to fall short was filled with surprise with all their commonalities. They connected over music, food, and television shows. Harry found himself opening up about his own strained family relationships when Louis on a lazy Friday night went on a small spiel about his deceased mother who he would always love, but would also always resent. He even found himself confiding in the boy about his job and the cases that really upset him, his emotions rising to the point he had to reign it in because he didn't even vent that much to Liam and Zayn. They haven't gotten to the bedroom yet, which Harry is semi-okay with only because the conversations, movie nights, and dinner dates made it an easy part to look over and ignore.

Also, he doesn't consider what he has with Louis to be serious. They may connect emotionally, and hell, maybe even sexually if Harry actually tried to pursue that aspect a little more, but Louis was still too _positive_. Anytime they approached unsavory topics or situations the boy always managed to see the silver lining.

Like when they went to Walmart, and a group of deplorable teenagers were clearly mocking Louis. He was happily showing them his lunchbox of stickers that he always had handy with him, and the jerks were just egging Louis on. After telling the miscreants to piss off, it dawned on Louis what was happening. He just shrugged his shoulders with a soft frown and told Harry that he didn't care, that he was just happy he'd made them smile. Harry realized then the optimism was too much.

That was the shit that Harry couldn't wrap his head around, and it had him worrying incessantly about the male during his hours of work, mind plagued with ideas of people taking advantage of the boy who was too kind for his own good. Besides, he thinks that maybe seeing someone on the side while also giving Louis domestic bliss would be a temporary mechanism to combat his building worry surrounding the man. That is until he decides how and when he'd end things permanently.

The plan to get laid was almost in motion due to one of his newest clients. He’d at first been ignoring her suggestive glances, but now, she was everything he needed to scratch the itch. And he knew it wouldn't affect what he had with Louis, at least, that’s what he told himself when his thoughts against the idea got the better of him.

* * *

"You're absolutely amazing, Styles."

Harry smirks at Frankie, his latest client. "I know."

Her raven eyes are sultry, and she's giving Harry a look he's seen quite often in his life. "Maybe get a drink later to celebrate a smooth process?"

"That sounds grea—"

"Harry, you've got someone here to see you." Niall interrupted, hard eyes scrutinizing the woman leaned in dangerously close.

"Right _now_ ," he hissed, rolling his eyes as his mischievous assistant left out. "I'll be right back, just stay put." He tells the brown-skinned vixen.

"Don't be long." she hums delicately, hand brushing over Harry's rings as he rises.

They share a smile before he turns and lets a frown replace it. He runs his hands through his short curls and over his growing beard to settle the aggravated shake in his hands. However, the fading scent of baby lotion and sugar cookies brings the smile back to his down turned lips.

Pushing open the wooden door Louis' looking over the calendar Harry keeps across his desk to remind him of appointments and meetings. The lucid blues are scrutinizing something in the corner and Harry's neck begins to warm at the reminder of the cactus sticker he'd put there. He's wearing another one of the lawyer's ratty t-shirt's that he's beginning to collect and keep, and the sinful biker shorts that Harry kind of wishes the man wouldn't wear in public.

"Bumble?" Louis' eyes flit to Harry, and he's immediately scurrying into the man's arms. He presses his smile into Harry's chest, and Harry's presses his into Louis' hair. "Pleasant surprise."

"Jordy had therapy today, so I got off early." he nuzzles at Harry's adam's apple before kissing the prominent lump. "I like that sticker on your calendar."

"Stop, I'm already embarrassed." Harry groans, large hands settling at Louis waist, fingertips pushing into the softness of the t-shirt. He sighs at the warmth that fills his fingers as he kneads the flesh."

"I'll let you off the hook only because I have a surprise for you."

"Ooh, a surprise. Are there stickers involved?"

"Somewhat, but it's something I think you'll really enjoy."

Harry's reluctant to release the man, but he does. Louis shuffles to his bag leaned against the side of Harry's desk, and pulls out a glass jar filled with a yellow-tinted substance, and Harry smirks because he already knows.

"You made me the honey."

"Mhmm, with help from Jordy because, well, he's been making it for almost fifty years, give or take." Louis giggles down at the floor, and Harry doesn't think he could be any more enraptured by the enigma before him.

"You're too kind, Bumble, way too kind," Harry says softly. Pulling the jar from Louis' hands, he smiles at the different stickers scattered throughout. "Can't wait to try it."

"You can come over tonight, and we try it together." Louis slowly suggests.

Harry hates when Louis stares at him like he's the most important thing in the world because it makes it all the more hard to tell him no. He's forgotten all about his drink with Frankie more focused on the meetings he wants to get an early start preparing for. But his firm stance begins to crumble as he leans down to collect a simple kiss, and placate the boy with an 'absolutely'. His chance is interrupted when the wooden door creaks open, and he thinks it's his inconsiderate assistant that he's about to turn and scold, until his eyes fall on Frankie, and he chokes on his own air supply.

"Oh, uh, Frankie." Harry, pushes the jar into Louis' hands, turns completely away from the puzzled man, and rushes to meet the smiling women in the middle of the room. "I'm sorry it too—"

"It's fine," she assesses Louis and the jar in his hand and smiles. "Let me guess, some kid trying to get you to buy something not worth buying?" as Louis frowns, she laughs and grips Harry's bicep, rubbing the appendage gently. "I just needed to know that you were serious about that drink later?"

Harry doesn't need to see Louis because he hears him. A soft gasp that pulls at his heart and makes him realize that he shouldn't have been thinking with his dick because the boy who just spent his time making him vegan honey is more than worth the wait.

"Oh, uh. I'm—"

"I'll see you later," Louis mumbles. He was out the door before Harry could reach out and snatch him up. Kiss him hard like he'd originally wanted to, and tell him that they could eat all the vegan honey Louis wanted tonight.

"Look, Frankie, that whole drink thing was a mistake. If you need any other legal help, and _just_ legal help, give me a call." he grabbed up his belongings and the abandoned gift. Niall didn't even need an explanation, just shouted that he'd cancel his last appointment for the day and lock up.

***

"Come on, Lou, open up. Please be an adult about this." Harry said to the closed door.

Louis' door swung open, and his red eyes were squinted. He had one of his lunchboxes pressed firmly to his chest, and Harry doesn't want to acknowledge its existence. Acknowledging it meant accepting that he was the reason it was there. "Done, Harry. I can't—" Louis huffs, "Go have your drink."

"No, no, no." Harry reaches out for Louis, who steps back. "I don't want that. I just want to come inside and spend the night with you."

"Harry, I'm too _different_ for you," Louis whispers, his thumb rubbing harshly at a sticker of a ham. "This was never going to work. I sort of knew that from the start."

Harry's frown deepens the longer he lets Louis' words settle. "That's not fucking true! You were spewing optimistic bullshit about love a few weeks ago. How come all of a sudden that doesn't apply now?"

"You didn't even support my optimistic bullshit remember; you gave me one of your condescending speeches!"

"That was before I realize I liked you!" Harry stumbles, his eyes gone wide. As his statement washes over him he deflates and drops his head, "Before I _realized_ that it's okay to be slightly optimistic when it comes to love—er—liking someone."

Louis shifts his lunchbox under his arm and yanks Harry forward by the collar of his button-down, a scowl on his lips. "Why were you even talking to her? Were you talking to others too?"

"No! No." Harry emphasized, "Just know that nothing happened with her or anyone else. Ever. I _only_ want you." Harry leans back to close the apartment door, before allowing Louis to pull him into the front room by his navy tie.

"You're my first _anything_ , Harry. My mom, well, you know." Louis sighed.

Harry knows just how strained Louis' relationship with his late mother was and how it ultimately disrupted any chance of normalcy regarding romantic relationships in his life. Pairing that with his peculiar sticker hobby, his somewhat debilitating anxiety, and his lack of knowledge pertaining to sexual intimacy, Louis was trying his best. Had Harry allowed himself to recognize that earlier on, he wouldn't be standing here feeling like a complete idiot.

"Relationships are so trivial, Louis. I apologize for my inability to understand ours, and you."

"You're gonna have to plead your case a little better than that, Counselor Styles"

Harry hangs his head, before setting the lunchbox down on the coffee table and gathering Louis' hands in his.

"I'm sorry. I think a lot of why I couldn't actually follow through with her or anyone else for that matter, was because that small nagging voice in my head wouldn't let me live without knowing that my selfish actions would hurt you. Of course, the point didn't get driven home until you were walking out off my office, with a piece of my heart."

"Pretty good," Louis pushes the man down onto his couch and smiles. "A heads up for future reference, this was your only one. I know you didn't do anything, but I just want to establish that this was your one."

"Understood, and again, I'm sorry." Harry pulls Louis down onto his lap, "A kiss, please?"

Louis' kisses are always shy. These subtle little pecks that drive Harry crazy and have his insides begging for more. Harry literally whimpers when the boy pulls away.

Louis’ got a minuscule smile itching to break free."Oh, and I _really_ like you too."

Harry fixes his mouth to respond but is cut short when Louis grinds down on his soft cock. He does four more swivels, Harry's so lost in bliss that he hasn't said anything, just let the faint breathing of the boy above lull him into a state of content. His dick fattens up slowly before it's pulsing hard between Louis' soft ass cheeks.

"Bumble, please don't start something. Don't think because of what happened earlier I'm expecting more. When we finally get to that point, I want it to be because you—"

"I want to." Louis interrupts, a breathy exhale against Harry's ear.

He pushes the timid boy back, and Louis shivers at the dark gaze pinned on him. Harry scrutinizes the blotchy face, from his cerulean eyes converting into deep black holes, flaming ruddy cheeks, and a wet mouth; He looks fucked out, and Harry hasn't even touched him.

"Bumble." he eases.

Louis whimpers, instinctively grinding down on Harry's hard cock. "Honest. The only reason I waited so long was because I was inexperienced, and I had to...practice. It was even part of why I wanted you to come over." He's sheepish and avoiding Harry's rapturous gaze.

"You ... _practiced_." Harry watches Louis' slow head nod, and he doesn't need verbal details because his filthy mind pieces it altogether for him.

Before he can say anymore Louis jumps from Harry's lap and rushes to his bedroom. On his return, he's got a bottle of lube and a box of condoms in his trembling hands. His blush has filled his cheeks and flared downward to most of his neck. Harry smiles, grabbing the items from his minx and biting his bottom lip.

"You bought these … in public."

Louis looks incredibly bashful, "Anxiety was through the roof, but I really want you to fuck me."

Harry stands, swiftly scoops Louis up, and heads for his bedroom. "Really want to fuck you too, Bumble."

"Gentle, okay. First timer here"

"Always, gonna give my boy what he deserves."

***

Harry presses Louis' body down into the thick blanket, commanding he stay still as he slowly undresses them both. He mentally berates himself for even entertaining the idea of laying down with anyone other than the beautiful charmer before him.

Louis is golden, skin illuminated by the soft fairy lights that surround them. He's the honeycomb that glistens underneath afternoon sunlight or the Utah sun peeking through deep oranges and reds. He's a star, and Harry's torn between putting him back up in the sky for all the world to see or holding him hostage.

"Absolutely stunning," he breathes into Louis' lower tummy, a few kisses compressed into the warm skin. Louis' eyes are glazed, and Harry wants Louis' first time to be everything he looks eager to experience. "So quiet."

"Scared," Louis whispers, shaky hands passing over his nipples and reaching out to cup Harry's dimpled cheeks. "It's gonna hurt."

"Only hurts when you aren't open and relaxed." Harry leans back and pushes Louis' legs up so he can stare at the tight pucker. "I intend to have you falling apart before my cock even grazes this little beauty."

Louis whines, fidgety hands running over his trembling abdomen. "Okay."

Harry bends down and kisses at Louis's lips, down over his chin and settles at his warm neck, to suck gently. After leaving a pretty hickey near Louis jawline he pushes his arms under Louis' to pull the man close. He's got the boy in his lap, and their dicks are touching slightly, the size difference making Harry moan. He uses his hand to wrap them together, two nice long tugs that make Louis' breath hitch.

"Shit," Louis whines, burying his face in Harry's neck, trembling lips latching onto tepid skin.

They grind together for a few more minutes. Harry feels almost abnormally in tune with Louis' body, and their soft stuttering breaths alone could send him off the edge.

The stifling air is charged between them as they gyrate obscenely. "I'm so excited," Louis whispers into Harry's jaw rubbing his soft lips against the chocolate scruff.

Harry lets Louis' words settle in the fervent atmosphere before he's bursting into surprise laughter. He nuzzles Louis' neck and kisses it gently. "Fuck, I'm lucky." he lays the giggling man back down and reaches out for the lube. His hand pauses when his homemade honey comes to mind, and he smiles to himself. "I'll be back."

Louis doesn't wait naked on his bed for long. He sees the jar but doesn't understand why Harry would need that for right now. "You want to try it now?"

Harry slides back onto the mattress, and gets comfortable in between Louis' sinful legs that are trembling ever so slightly. He kisses at the boy's right kneecap before nosing along the inseam of his thigh. "Mhmm."

Harry swirls his finger in the sticky substance. The first scoop he places on his tongue, a roll of his eye and a groan from his throat at the delicious taste, the subtle hint of dandelion very much welcomed. When his finger is decently covered again, he sets the jar aside and uses his free hand to place Louis' knees together and push them back, just enough for the pink rosebud to be on display.

He focuses in on the pink flutter. "Taste pretty good, but I think it'll taste phenomenal on this pretty hole."

The sticky finger prods gently around the tight ring of muscles, the faint dusting of almond brown hairs cause Harry's mouth to water, and he moves the gooey digit away for just a moment to brush his thumb delicately over the soft stubble. Louis jerks and shivers, and the shiver settles in his knees and vibrates through the palm of Harry's hand that's holding them together. Louis intakes another sharp breath when Harry's honey-covered pointer finger is back rubbing at the winking ring. Harry smirks as he continues to swirl the honey around Louis' entrance.

"Oh, shit." Louis mumbles, brain short-circuiting at the building sensations. The moment to assess the thrumming in his belly gone when Harry's damp tongue licks evenly over his covered pucker. "Oh!"

Harry could cry from how divine the cavity between Louis' legs tastes. The dandelion honey is paired almost perfectly with the boy's natural musk, and had Harry not covered it in honey he would've stuck his nose right up against the fluttering flower. He doesn't though, continuing to lap away the sweet nectar, sucking at the ring when Louis' body instinctively pushes his hole out and open. "Shit Lou, you taste amazing."

Harry can only pull away when the whimpers and moans he'd been hearing vocally from Louis have died out. He looks up at his boy to ensure he's content, and he smiles at the predicament he finds his sweetheart in. Louis' lips are bitten red, his cheeks are heavily rubicund, and his eyes are blown to a point where the subtle ring of blue is almost completely nonexistent. It takes everything to not dive back in for another taste, lick Louis open until his legs are jelly and his tongue is raw. He focuses on wiping his mouth and sticky digits with his discarded work shirt. Once he's free of honey, he grabs for the abandoned bottle of lube, flips open the cap and slowly squeezes a dollop of clear gel onto the winking rosebud and bites into his bottom lip when another quaint shiver runs through Louis' body.

"How's my baby?" Louis' eyes are hooded, and his toffee-tinged eyelashes are so thick that Harry can't tell if the man is looking at him or not. That doesn't stop him from gazing hard at the shaky body.

"Good _daddy_."

"No fucking way." Harry hisses, thumbs digging deeper into the supple flesh of Louis' warm thighs. He tugs Louis down minutely, eyes cast slightly in black as he keeps them lowered and pinned on the spacey boy beneath him. "Repeat it."

Louis rises slowly, tongue dipping out of his small mouth to lick delicately across his top and bottom lip—swallowed eyes that are bright and filled with adoration. His tongue retreats just so he can bite into his lip.

" _Daddy_."

Harry's eyes roll, and he yanks on Louis' thighs again, his fingers sliding down and revealing the faint raspberry fingerprints left behind. The lithe body drops back onto the mattress and Louis' head lolls to the side, the dazed stare heightened. "You're so precious, Bumble."

Louis' face ducks away in shyness, a smile just barely gracing his lips. Harry winks in Louis' direction before he nudges at the slicked hole, sliding in up to his nail on the moment Louis pushes out on his own admission. He works Louis open with one at first, twisting it every which way, a crook in between to graze against Louis' inner walls.

His lover is panting, and he's only breached him with a single digit. Harry pushes his middle finger in beside his pointer, and Louis takes it upon himself to grab hold of the underside of his knees and push his ass out more towards a mesmerized Harry. He delves further into Louis' abyss and reaches for the sweet spot nestled deep inside. When Louis' body jolts forward a high moan tumbling from bitten lips, Harry's cock twitches, a dribble of his precum dripping on the bed.

"There we go," Harry mutters as Louis continues to moan deeply.

"Oh, fuck!" Louis cries, every nerve-ending in his ass bouncing between slight pain and overwhelming pleasure

Harry crooks them again, pressing hard on Louis' prostate once more. Louis thrashes back and forth as he batters the boy's sweet spot. Harry eases off the most sensitive area in Louis' insides and instead pumps his fingers in long thorough motions. He's confident he can get a third finger through, so he nudges at the sloppy entrance and slowly inches the digit in alongside the first two.

"Fuck, Harry, _please_ ," Louis begs, voice high-pitch and hoarse.

It's hard to maneuver his fingers at first, but he continues on, and as Louis' hole gets looser, the sounds get sloppier, and Harry can't stop the saliva building up in his mouth. He removes his slick fingers slowly, Louis' pitiful whimper making his stomach coil up. He doesn't want to keep his boy waiting long, so he spits over the gaping hole twice. His middle and pointer finger are used to swirl the translucent white liquid around the rim before pushing it slowly inside. He pulls them out again, and slaps at Louis pucker before slowly ascending up. He squeezes the small ballsack gently, before tugging at the small cock. Louis cries out, hands leaving the underside of his knees to push Harry's hands away.

"Absolutely not." Harry grits sternly, swatting at Louis' hand before yanking even harder and causing Louis' sounds to fall between drawn out moans and watery cries. "You don't _ever_ push my hands away. Understood?"

"Yes, daddy." Louis sobs, trembling hands landing back on his nipples.

It's once Louis' five-inch pecker is leaking precum profusely that Harry finally eases off. He applies more lube to Louis' pucker, rubs it around the ring and slides a condom from the small box. After he's rolled the magnum down his girth he drizzles a copious amount of lubricant over the latex. "You ready Bumble?"

"Yes. So, so ready." Louis weeps pitifully.

"Why are you crying?" Harry questions with concern.

"Happy tears," Louis' eyes are raindrops as he peers at the brunette, "So happy."

"Good, my little honeybee, that's all daddy wants."

Louis goes to smile, the soft quirk of his lip almost noticeable until his lips shift and they part slightly. "Oh." Harry's not only long and length, but he's _thick_.

A PVC pipe is the first replication that comes to Louis' mind. He cries out in ecstasy, lifting up to see how much is lodged inside him, and whimpering when it's clear Harry has only breached him with his cock head.

Harry pushes on Louis' sweaty chest until the boy is laid back again, a soft shush sent into the stifling atmosphere. He palms at the shaky rib cage before gliding over each bubblegum pink nipple and twisting softly. "Relax, I just _know_ you were made to take all of me."

Harry works his way into Louis' hole slowly. He has to bite hard into his own bottom lip to prevent his hips from snapping forward and just burying himself to the hilt. Louis' unknowingly clenching around Harry's dick, and the pressure is almost too much for Harry. It's the building of heat that has Harry peering down. He rolls his eyes at his groin being only inches away from Louis' ass cheeks. He's gripping Louis so hard around his legs that when he pulls them away briefly there are more small bruises forming along the golden flesh. He smiles to himself because they look lovely.

"So full," Louis mumbles, which effectively brings Harry out of his lust-induced trance.

The lawyer's eyes lower, and he leans down slowly to suck at Louis' neck. He places two dark hickeys on the summer skin, licking a strip from one hickey to the next and a kiss right in the middle. He moves slow, his first round of thrust very minute and subtle. Louis' pants are long and breathy, and he's wrapped his hands loosely around Harry's neck to keep the man close. As the glide becomes easier, Harry gains speed. The slaps are filthy as they echo out, and Louis is digging into the flesh of Harry's back with all his might. Harry's sex-high prevents him from noticing the pain being inflicted on his shoulder-blades, to focused on his building orgasm. He's got Louis bent in half, the position resembling a folding chair. He's balls deep, his scrotum slapping at Louis' perineum and giving them both an added dose of pleasure.

"Daddy's getting real deep, aren't I baby. Am I putting my cock deep inside you?"

"Yes. I-in my stomach." Louis grunts, his hands gripping into Harry's shoulders on another deep thrust.

"Yeah I am. Daddy's deep in your stomach, moving your guts around, huh. You like that, don't you?"

"Yes sir." Louis whines, clenching around Harry's cock.

The abrupt clasp makes Harry's hips stutter in pace, but he regains his speed and slogs into the raw hole. "Fuck, I'm bout to give you my cum sweet boy."

Louis' mouth opens, and Harry thinks the man is about to speak, but a throaty moan comes out instead. Harry jerks at the sudden feel of warm liquid painting his abdomen.

"Sweet honeybee." he soothes, pummeling into the body below that is so far gone.

Louis’ eyes are shiny like diamonds, a bubble of drool winding down from the corner of his slack mouth. He’ll definitely need help being brought back down to earth.

Harry cums into the condom, his groan long and deep as he presses it into Louis' salty neck. As he kisses faintly at Louis' moist open mouth, nibbling on the wet lips, and dipping his tongue inside to swipe over Louis' teeth, he reminds himself to get tested. The next time they do this he wants his cum to fill Louis’ ass to the brim, so the sooner the better.

***

Harry loves aftercare with Louis. He's pliant and quiet, which is like typical Louis but a lot more captivating. It takes a few minutes for the lust and glazed appearance to clear from his blues, but when they do, Louis' all delicate smiles. They clean up slowly, because the slight winces that Louis elicits when he moves don't go unnoticed by Harry. Although he tells Harry he's fine, the lawyer still scoops him up bridal-style and carries him into the adjoining bathroom. The warm shower washes away the dried cum on their bellies, and Harry splashes water in between Louis' ass gently, careful of the sensitive skin, the lingering smell of sex replaced by Louis' sugar cookie body wash that the small boy forces Harry to bathe with.

"Dove men smells a lot better." He grouses as Louis lathers his pecs and abs.

Louis giggles, moving so Harry can rinse. "Hush up, and do me."

Harry smirks down at the oblivious boy, "I already did, sweetheart."

It takes Louis a minute to get the joke but when he does he slaps Harry in the stomach. "Very funny."

They enter back into Louis' bedroom and towel off, Harry rifles through the bottom drawer where he's been leaving a few spare pieces of clothing. It's as he's slipping into an old t-shirt and basketball shorts that he realizes he's started leaving small increments of clothing at Louis' apartment for nights like tonight. Harry knows that it has a deeper meaning but refuses to acknowledge it.

Once Louis' dressed in one of Harry's shirts and a pair of light gray joggers they move into the kitchen. Louis eases himself up on his counter, mindful of his pulsing ass, and watches Harry peer into the fridge for post-sex food.

"How come every time I come over here there is nothing but TV dinners and Lunchables in your fridge and freezer?"

"I have a slight aversion for when my food touches, also when I said I couldn't cook, I should have clarified that I have almost burned my apartment down four times."

Harry frowns before closing both doors and searching around for his phone. He heads into the front room and spots it on the coffee table. "I'll order food."

"Awesome, can we get Dunkin? They deliver through GrubHub."

Harry shook his head firmly, "We are not having Dunkin' Donuts for dinner, it's garbage."

Louis' eyes widen. "You take that back, fucker."

"Watch your mouth." Harry retorts in mock sternness. He smirks when Louis blushes, the boy's eyes going distant for a minute.

"Please." Louis asks again, staring at Harry with Bambi eyes.

Harry smiles with a soft shake of his head as he leans over to right the falling spectacles. "You're a minx. I'll get you Dunkin', but I'm ordering sushi."

"I want two egg and cheese wake-up wraps, hash—"

"Bumble, I know your order."

Louis slides closer to the man who makes his stomach feel like a tsunami, a minuscule smile on his lips as he forces his attention off the Adonis before him, and onto the television screen. "We'll see about that."

***

Harry back aches when he rises from his desk. He let Niall go home for the day because he shouldn't have to suffer through Harry's incessant need to finish all his work in one night. He's got six new cases, and they all fall under that category of drama he would much rather avoid but can't because the pay is unmatchable.

The one he's most invested in advising is a wealthy aristocrat descendant who's leaving his gold-digger wife. The man has requested most of Harry's time, and he's not complaining about it at all. Dinner and lunch meetings that ooze into late hours of the day or night, phone calls discussing plans of action should she and her lawyer get hostile. He's demanding and brash, which usually rubs Harry the wrong way, but is slowly growing on him.

"Fuck!" Harry groans the minute he closes his apartment door. "Zayn?"

The artist stumbles out of his bedroom, dressed in clothes that are not pajamas. He's grinning wide, slicked hair emanating a glossy sheen as he stands under the foyer light fixture. "Date night, Styles, so don't wait up."

"Date night … with who?"

Zayn smirks next, slipping into his jean jacket. "None of your business. Why don't you call up your sticker boy?"

"Shit," Harry sighs deeply, tossing his briefcase into the hall closet and patting his pockets for his cellphone. "I haven't talked to him in like two days. We just keep missing each other."

"No, H. You entertained someone, fucked, and buried yourself back in your work." Zayn corrects with a soft chuckle, leaving out the minute the irritated gaze falls over him.

Harry stares hard at the door. His conscience attempting to beat down the growing feeling that Zayn could be right. It's not true though because Harry misses his Bumble he's just been busy. He doesn't understand why Louis hasn't pulled him out of his work hole though. He's done it before; any time Harry's gone and self-buried himself in meetings and cases, Louis shows up to pull him out with a welcoming, bright smile.

"He isn't just entertainment," Harry grumbles, pulling his tie loose and mussing up his hair. It's as he's changing into something more comfortable that the words eat at him. He can't even sit still in his living room, the echo of Zayn's voice in his ear causing him building discomfort.

Wandering eyes that fall over the phone, and then over his foyer. "You're driving yourself crazy, Styles," he mutters. His ability to focus on the news anchorman dwindling after each blink of his eyes, the apartment down the hall flashing against his eyelids.

He's slipping into his sneakers when he gives a quick glance to his Apple watch. It's a little after eight, and his hands falter at his shoelaces. Louis' usually in bed by eight-thirty, and Harry thinks maybe he should wait until tomorrow morning. But, the nagging feeling is knocking again and he's out his front door before he can rationalize.

It's after he's knocked twice that he realizes this is definitely irrational. He can't dart away in time because Louis' door is cracking open and he's forced to stay to explain his abrupt arrival. His mouth is suddenly desert dry because Louis' dressed only in one of his button down shirts that stops at his luscious mid-thigh. He's wearing knee-high socks covered in avocados, and he's sleep rumpled. Harry loves Louis with his glasses, the boy is a dream he never wants to wake up from, and he has to will his cock not to rise to attention.

"Harry?" Louis' clearly puzzled by the lawyer's presence but he still opens his apartment door wider. He places his hand over his mouth as he yawns, "Is everything okay?"

"Missed you bumble, why haven't you been around?" When Louis moves back Harry steps forward, shuddering instantly at the overwhelming smell of Louis.

Louis fiddles with a shirt button, a fidget in his body as he looks down at his welcome mat. "Dunno. Guess we just got … busy."

"No, no, no. You've interrupted my life before," Harry grabs Louis around his waist, thumbs dipping into his love handles, "What's the real reason?"

Louis walks backwards into his apartment, which pulls Harry inside. The lawyer only removes one hand to close the apartment door. Louis allows Harry to keep him wrapped close as they enter the front room, but he pulls away when he's got them in front of the couch. Harry sits first, a slight smile as he watches Louis pace and twirl his fingers, his eyes entranced by the sun-kissed thighs on display.

"Felt weird after we, you know…"

"After I fucked you." Harry deadpanned with amused eyes.

Louis stops pacing and gives Harry this look that makes the man sit forward. He reaches for the hem of the shirt but Louis inches back just before he can. His surprised eyes make Louis frown and cower. "I said some things that were … _weird_."

Harry, with a small frown, searches his memory for anything out of the ordinary, but everything that transpired two nights ago was far from weird. It was exotic, euphoric, and downright tantalizing. He was fattening up again just thinking about it.

"Nothing about that night was weird, Lou. It was everything but."

Louis covers his face, "I called you, _fuck_ , I called you daddy."

He's holding his body, and his eyes are squeezed shut. Harry immediately assumes that he's headed for a downward spiral, so he rises up and grabs Louis close. That idea amplifies when Louis wiggles free and puts more distance between them again. Harry frowns at the gesture but plops back down on the couch to let Louis have his space.

"Look, I don't know what you need to hear, but I was far from weirded out."

Louis finally looks Harry's way, marble-glass eyes shiny with unshed tears. "Honest?"

"Besides, if you remember correctly, I also said it a few times throughout, and yeah, it was really great. I loved it and would love for you to call me daddy whenever you feel comfortable doing so." Harry gives Louis a genuine smile, "And lastly, even if I wasn't a fan, that isn't a deal-breaker."

"What _is_ a deal-breaker? My anxiety, my stickers?"

Louis catches the tears before they can tumble down his cheeks. He's flustered and scared which puts Harry on edge, and he's itching to hold his boy close. Just snuggle him under his arm and plant kisses deep into his mind so they suffocate the bad thoughts. But, he knows Louis is waiting for the other shoe to drop, and for Harry to tell him all the differences _are_ too much.

"Nothing. I want you just like you are." Harry reiterates, and the weight pressing down on his shoulders disappears when Louis gives him a gentle show-stopping smile.

Louis' fingers dance delicately over his smile. "Okay," he eases, body stock-still in the middle of the room.

Harry leans back into the sofa cushions, a gentle smirk resting on his lips. "Now. Come give daddy kisses."

Louis beams, strawberry hue tinting the hills of his cheeks and bridge of his nose. He slides his legs over Harry's lap with a tamed eagerness, his knees bracketing Harry's hips as he nudges his button nose at the man's adam's apple. Harry's right hand spreads out across the bottom of Louis' face. He’s got his palm cupping the boy's soft chin, a thumb pressed gently into the his downy right cheek, and the remainder of his fingers against the left. Louis' body is still jittery, plump ass squirming relentlessly on Harry's cock.

"Settle down," he whispers, nudging his nose at soft lips before encasing them with his own.

Kisses were hard to come by when Louis would let loose soft dreamy giggles against Harry's lips. Harry let the loose grip on Louis' face tighten slightly, which was just enough for the boy to settle down again, and more French kissing to commence. He huffed loudly when the uncontrollable laughter returned.

"Bumble." Harry voiced lowly, a firm warning that had Louis' giggles ceasing momentarily.

He bit into his lip softly, "Can't help it, your beard is getting so long that it’s ticklish."

Louis was sheepish as he watched Harry give him an infamous eye roll. He was leaning slightly away from Harry, tiny hands pressed over his mouth as an attempt to suppress the growing laughter.

"You're too fucking cute."

"Am not."

"Louis, you are. One of the many things that make me crazy about you. You're by far the gentlest soul I've ever met, and every day I'm enamored by your beauty and personality." Harry pulls Louis close, kisses the fading hickeys on his neck, and then a firm encasing over the boy's grinning lips.

"So, the weird is okay?"

Harry chuckles, an Eskimo kiss to the soft nose. "Very much so."

"Good to hear." Louis whispers into Harry's lips. They kiss languidly, no more giggles to interrupt because Louis' to invested in sucking the spearmint off Harry's tongue.

Harry rubs at Louis' thighs, then cups his butt, a soft pat and rub as he stares adoringly at the man in his lap. "I'm gonna run to my apartment, and I'll be back to cook you dinner, okay?"

"Okay."

***

Harry makes baked chicken, homemade mashed potatoes, and fresh snap peas. "Lou, honey, come eat." Louis comes into the kitchen with a lunchbox in his grasp. Harry smiled down at the metal container and then up at the man. "Everything okay?"

"Mhmm. I was just putting a few on my door." Louis says, placing the box on the counter and approaching the table. He pushes at the corner of his glasses as he frowns down at the plate of food. "I can't eat this."

Harry’s staring at Louis with bated aggravation, and Louis’ eyeing the plate of food warily. "I—why not?"

"The peas are touching the mashed potatoes, and they’re both covered in chicken juice." Louis nudges the plate, "So, yeah, I can't eat this."

Harry steps in front of Louis, who lifts his gently scowling face up at him. He grabs Louis’ face in one quick motion, squishing his cheeks just enough for his lips to pucker. "You will eat it."

Harry probably wouldn't be as bothered as he is right now if Louis didn't shoot down his three-split plates idea for whenever Harry made meals that would _invoke_ touching. Louis had used them once before deciding they were too childish and he would just stick to his method of eating his safety foods. The tip of his tongue will be nonexistent due to him constantly biting it as a means to not question Louis' odd methods, and way of thinking.

Louis yanked away, soft scowl reappearing, "No." He looked around his kitchen, eyes locking on the lunchbox. "I want Dunkin' instead, please."

Harry growled and trashed Louis' plate of food. "You are not getting Dunkin'."

Louis frowned, "Yes I am."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "No, you are not."

Louis watched Harry move angrily around the kitchen with a frown. "I said please."

Harry stopped cleaning to give Louis a dumbfounded stare. "That isn't the issue."

"What is the issue?"

Harry groaned deeply, sitting down to eat his own plate of food, "You order it yourself."

"Thank you," Louis said, pulling Harry's phone from the counter.

Harry cut into his chicken, "I refuse to be the boyfriend of a spoiled brat Louis."

The phone clattering to the tile floor drew Harry's attention, but the bored gaze quickly shifted to the coy male. "Seriously."

Louis swiftly recollected the phone and stared down at it longer than necessary. "You—I'm sorry."

Harry sighs, a smile tugging at his lips, "Honeybee, come here." his pointer finger beckons the man forward. Louis moves slowly, calculated steps that Harry watches intensely. When he can place his hands on the boy’s hips, he stares up into timid eyes. "What's wrong?"

"You said … boyfriend."

Harry thinks back on his choice of words and chuckles. "Did that word scare you?"

"A little."

"Did you like it?"

"Mhmm. A lot actually."

Harry presses his growing smile into Louis' warm stomach, his firmly shut eyes against the trembling chest. "Me too."

* * *

"So, are you going to invite this _boyfriend_ to the annual picnic?"

Louis and Jordy were going through a Ziploc bag of stickers they were planning to give the other residents this afternoon at dinner.

"I dunno."

"You two have been together how long now?"

Louis blushes, breaking two stickers attached apart. "A month in a week."

"So, what you actually meant to say was, _'Yes Jordy, I will bring my boyfriend to your ceremony of approval'_."

Louis rolls his eyes, "He's always busy. He's got this really important client that takes up a lot of his free time right now too, so I know he won't be able to come."

"Cookie, you've got to realize a happily taken man will always bend for his lover."

Louis kept quiet because Jordy didn't know Harry like he did. The lawyer took his job seriously, and there have already been a few occasions they've had to cut lunch dates and phone calls short. Louis' even grown accustomed to letting Harry plan any get together to help prevent any sudden cancellation. He doesn't know who this new client is, but Louis kind of wishes he would fuck off so he could get some time with the guy he's falling really hard for. He tries not to make a big fuss about the forced compromises because Harry's this really good thing Louis' got now, and he doesn't want his demands for more attention to be the reason they break up. Louis rubs harshly at the sticker pinched between his two fingers at that idea.

Louis contemplates his decision to ask Harry the entire workday. Jordy has distracted him for the most part with catching Louis up to speed with the traveling gossip, and helping Louis hand out the stickers to the residents at dinner. When he's packing up to head home, he's still unsure if he's going to ask Harry or not.

"Don't forget to ask," Jordy reminds softly, his sweet smile bringing one to Louis' face.

"Oh, I won't," Louis can't help the short laugh that follows.

***

Louis' just got back from his shift at the shelter and he's more discombobulated than he was when he left Jordy yesterday. He spent the entire afternoon mulling over the pros and cons of asking Harry to hangout tomorrow, and psyching himself up to the point the pad of his thumb was red and raw from rubbing at the stickers scattered across his lunchbox. Kaylee had given him so many worried glances that he had to appease her by taking an early break to do a few breathing exercises. He'd been really on edge when he was headed home and got the text from Harry asking to hang out tonight.Everything from the moment he stepped into his apartment was rushed, mind to busy running through possible ways to ask his boyfriend the simplest request.

"He's going to say no," he muttered, pulling the two pizzas he'd ordered out of the oven and bringing them to the coffee table to sit alongside the glasses of lemonade and bowls of salad. He studied the set up. "Ranch."

The doorbell rang as he sat the sauce down. He didn't head straight for the door, instead, searching out his lunchbox for some immediate closure. He wiped at the prickling tears, frustrated with himself for crying at all, because it isn't nearly as detrimental as he's making it seem.

Louis opened the door slowly, and Harry's got a smile on his face that drops when he assesses Louis. "Bumble?"

"I'm fine," Louis mutters, moving out of the way so the man can step inside. "I ordered pizza. I got cheese for me and veggie for you."

Louis' about to turn into the living room when Harry grabs his arm and gently spins him around. "Nuh-uh. Absolutely not."

He whimpers, and he hates feeling this way over something so frivolous. "I'm fine. Promise."

"Louis, we've been over this; it's not good for you or your anxiety to bubble things up, so please talk to me."

He pushes the metal box against his chest. When it begins to hurt, he figures he has no choice but to ask and get it over with. "Are you busy tomorrow?"

"I have a meeting in the morning with my big client but—"

"Then forget it." Louis rushes, easing his forearm from the light grip but having it quickly snatched up again. "Harry quit."

"I will not quit," Harry responds gently, concerned eyes on Louis. "I'm asking for an explanation."

Louis whines pitifully, yanking twice on the firm hold, "Please don't make me."

Harry deflates, letting the thin wrist go when he realizes the man is getting a lot more worked up than he expected. "Louis, _please_. You're—you're scaring me." Louis' breathing eases only slightly when Harry pulls him into a hug.

Louis keeps quiet for a while, letting Harry's deafening heartbeat settle his rapidly beating one. "I like you a lot, ya'know."

Harry's chuckles are soft, "I like you too, Bumble."

Louis nuzzles the warm chest, pressing his lips to Harry's right pectoral to muffle his next statement. "I was gonna invite you to the annual picnic at the nursing home tomorrow, but you're busy with your big important client."

"He's not that big and important." Harry defends noncommittally, kissing at Louis' forehead. "Not more than you."

"You've cut four of our dates short for him." Louis tiredly rebuttals.

"I know, and I'm sorry for that. Work should never cut into the time we have together, so with that being said, I will gladly attend an old folks' picnic."

Louis squeezes Harry around the midsection, before pulling away, "You don't have to. I mean, I know you're busy with this guy, and he's really important and gonna pay you big bucks—"

Harry holds up a finger to pause Louis, "First off, 'big bucks' aren't money; bucks are adult male deer. Second off, I'm not dating him—I'm dating you."

"First off," Louis mocked cheekily, "Big bucks are a thing, weirdo—" Louis presses a kiss into Harry's furry cheek, "—and thank you, I was so nervous to ask you, but I'm really excited. I can't wait for you to meet Jordy."

"Oh yeah right, you just can't wait for me to be snubbed and scolded."

Louis drops down and sits cross-legged with a subtle smile on his lips, "That's not true."

Harry sits on the opposite side. "You're a horrible liar Lou. However, I'm looking forward to having some old guy stare me down with his cataract eyes."

"Jordy doesn't have cataracts, jackass." Louis giggles, the sound growing as Harry crawls from his side of the table to Louis’. He yelps loudly when Harry tackles him to the carpet.

"Oh, my bad." Harry whispers in the shell of Louis' ear, faint kisses to the sugar scented neck first before sucking delicately at the thin skin.

"Yeah, your bad." Louis sighs.

***

Harry couldn't stop his hands from wandering if he tried. Louis was in one of his old college t-shirts and nothing else. The minute Louis plopped into his lap, Harry let his hands roam the expansive plains of the boy's sunbaked thighs. The soft kneading of tempting flesh had them parting obscenely. Choppy breaths growing fainter as the oversized shirt was rucked up Louis' petite frame, exposing his bare lower half. Harry kept calm, movements slow and steady. He had to hold back a groan as he hooked his chin over Louis' shoulder, emeralds watching the boy yank slowly at his pretty, blush pink cock. The precum dribbling at the pinkish head had his full attention, and the whimpers falling from Louis' panting mouth were pressed hot into his earlobe.

He cleared his throat, "That's it, sweetheart, make yourself feel good for daddy."

"Please," Louis whines, turning to nuzzle his nose into Harry's jaw, "Do something."

"We have to leave in an hour Bumble, I need more than an hour to make this pretty little hole feel good."

"N-no, now. I need it now." Louis kept his hand steady on his cock, his thumb resting in his slit briefly before sliding the clear liquid down his shaft.

Harry was so entranced that his large hands had momentarily ceased moving,and instead, gripped into the warm flesh of Louis' thighs. Thick and delicious skin that he wanted to nibble. His slow rubs started from Louis' pelvis bone down to his shaking knees, each drag causing the man's legs to open wider.

Harry then pressed his thick digits into the luscious golden skin. "How about I play with your pucker for a little bit?"

Louis nods frantically, whining high as he spreads his legs as far as they can go over Harry's. The cool air is refreshing against his heated rosebud and perineum as Louis focuses all attention on his ass. The pad of Harry's finger is rough, a gentle brush that makes Louis bite hard at his bottom lip. He wants to cry when Harry pulls away, but the wet finger that returns to prod at his opening calms him once again.

"Shit," he hums, hooded eyes locked on Harry's swiveling wrist.

He wants to see more, so he hooks his hands under each one of his knees. It helps push his ass out more and better the view of Harry prodding at his hole. His cock begins to spasm as he watches Harry fingerfuck him open.

"You always get your way. My spoiled rotten baby, huh."

"Mhmm."

"Mhmm, spoiled rotten like you deserve," Harry moans, his own cock twitching below Louis as he works his pointer and middle faster, every now and then scissoring his fingers to rub at Louis' walls and make the trembling man keen high in his throat. "Gonna fuck you so good tonight, sweet honeybee."

"Promise."

Harry twists his fingers, nudging at Louis' prostate briefly, and planting a wet kiss against Louis' slick neck. "Promise."

***

Louis hides his blush in Harry's forearm because Jordy's giving him this gaze that makes him think the old man knows what they did before they got here.

"Jordy, this is Harry, my boyfriend."

Harry extends his hand, "Pleasure."

Hickory-brown eyes interrogate Harry one good time before he shifts his cane to his left hand to shake with his right. "Same here. Probably wouldn't have been able to say that at the beginning of this." he motions between their two bodies.

Louis was definitely expecting Jordy to make a jab at how Harry was in the beginning, but he still found his mouth dropping slightly open, and his body language screaming 'back off'.

Harry stares at the older gentleman with clear amusement "Yes, it is true, that I was a pretentious dick when I first met Louis."

"Pretentious indeed," Jordy adds, turning to walk back towards the garden where the festivities are taking place.

"He's sweet, very much not a fan of me, so thanks for bringing me to my own roast."

"He likes you," Louis states, pulling Harry toward the large white tents scattered throughout, "Plus, he's my everything. His approval was probably the only one you needed to worry about."

"Well, let's hope that by being here today and missing my meeting, it'll be worth it."

Harry's smiling when he makes the innocent remark, but Louis still can't help but feel a little off by it. Feel a little bit guilty. "Harry, I-I'm still sorry you had to—"

"Now, don't do that. I would much rather be here than there, it was just a joke honeybee."

Louis lifts their interlocked hands and presses a kiss to the warm flesh of Harry's hand. "Okay."

Louis manages to tamper down the overhanging feeling that Harry doesn't want to be here. It's nonexistent as he watches the man play a game of ring toss with Jordy. It's clear he's allowing the older man to win, and when Jordy beats at Harry's calves with his cane when he catches on, Louis belly laughs from the sideline.

All is pretty okay when they finally manage to sit down at a table to eat hotdogs covered in chili and coleslaw. But then Jordy's onslaught of questions fall on Harry and Louis' back on high alert. He was kind of okay with the fact he'd left his lunchbox back at his apartment, until this moment. He didn't have anyone to blame for that but himself due to the wandering hands that had him so flustered he was barely able to get dressed. So, to deal with his rolling stomach and shaky fingers, he was forced to rub harshly at Harry's hand.

"Do you like being a divorce lawyer? Was it your first choice when looking into studying law?"

"Uh, yes sir. I always wanted to be a lawyer, but my first choice of study was criminal law."

"Divorce seems odd for a young tycoon like yourself?"

Harry's dimpled smile holds all of Louis' attention, a rare blush just visible through the prickly cocoa hairs covering his cheeks and jawline. "Honestly, I had a professor that said that family law, with a focus on marital, usually had a huge payout. You can be in court for months dealing with couples who fight over the smallest of assets and possessions."

Jordy's eyebrows burrow together, "So most of your cases have bad outcomes?"

"Mostly, see I'm pretty egotistical when it comes to my line of work, and because of how good I do my job my clientele has changed drastically over the years."

"Rich snobs wanting easy outs." Jordy supplied, with an all-knowing look.

"Bingo," Harry confirmed, a broad smile on a nodding Jordy. "I'm just a spokesperson, and that can be hard sometimes. Especially when some of my clients are so callous to unsuspecting exes."

"See, I feel, those who have been hurt horribly in divorce cases will get their happy ending through the universe, and the spouses that deserve karma will receive her on a silver platter. Not all of us are lucky enough to find the one, but like I always tell my Cookie here," Jordy grabs Louis' hand in a light grasp, "Love is a beautiful thing."

Harry holds down a smile as he watches the sun ray that is his boyfriend smile happily at the old man still holding his hand. "I totally agree."

"Now," Jordy starts, pulling his eyes away from Louis and back on Harry. "Enough about work, what will it cost for you to convince Nurse Mackenzie to get in the dunk tank? He's cut me down to one pudding a day for the last week, and I've got a vendetta."

Louis kept quiet as the two conspirator's chalked up a plan to convince the nurse to get into the dunk tank. He wanted Jordy to see for himself just how amazing Harry was. He was only mildly worried this far into the conversation, and he had Harry's reddening hand to thank partially for that. He'd been holding it hostage since the interrogation began, and it was just a little bit of a turn on that Harry seemed undeterred by the suffocation of his own fingers.

"We'll leave him be for now, but I'll let you know if I change my mind." Jordy tells Harry with a soft wink, "Now, on the other hand, you two boys better be participating in the three-legged race. I want that spa day and delivered lunch."

Harry pouted faintly as he eyed a giddy Louis. "You didn't say there would be games."

Louis hides his smile behind their entwined hands, "Sorry."

"Mhmm." Harry hums unconvinced, "I bet you are."

Louis rolls his eyes and pulls Harry up off the bench. "Do it for me."

***

Harry realizes instantly how loved Louis is at this nursing home. It's most notable when they're swooping through clumps of people only to have someone, resident or visitor, greet his boyfriend with a warm smile or kind words. Without fail, Louis' cheeks turn ruby and he'll hide briefly in the crevice between his bicep and upper chest. It's so endearing that Harry forgets to be bothered by the race. He still grumbles as they wait though, but jokes on him because Louis' used to it, so he's smiling happily as they approach the start line.

"Should these old people even be doing this?"

"Dunno."

Harry looked at the range of people standing right alongside them. "Doesn't seem safe. I smell a lawsuit."

"Do you? Well, maybe you can help with the law stuff."

Harry peers down at Louis, "It doesn't work that way, sweetheart. Unless you're patronizing me."

Louis swings their locked hands back and forth, suppressing a giggle as he twists the ankle that's tied to Harry's. "I would never, _sweetheart._ " Harry knocks his shoulder at that and Louis shouts a laugh as he toddles over dangerously before righting himself, "Besides, I'm sure everyone will be fine. It's just for fun anyway."

Harry scoffs, "Just for fun." He glances back down, but not at Louis, at the height difference that will definitely be their downfall. "This won't work, so I hope you weren't expecting to win."

"Yeah, no. I don't care if we win."

"We're not the same height. You're incredibly too short, and that will cause us to fall."

"Hey, I'll have you know that I'm at least 5'9."

Harry looks at the top of Louis' chestnut crown incredulously. "Bullshit."

Louis cackles before feigning a pout, he knocks Harry's arm in a mirrored manner from earlier. "Hush it. And like I just said, I don't care if we win." He rubs his thumb across the length of Harry's pointer finger, a gentle smile on his lips as he stares at their entangled hands. "Just wanna be with you."

Harry's heart constricts, and he also can't take his eyes off their entwined fingers. A coiling in his belly, foreign to him as it steadily rises. "Well I want to win."

***

The subtle statement made before the relay race is more than enough for that need to fuck Louis raw to rise within Harry. It amplifies when they stumble their way to the finish line, in last place, and Louis has a blinding sunbeam of a smile on his face. Intensifies as he watches the boy conversate with residents, and do the limbo with Jordy. And settles in his thrumming groin on the ride back home as he has the pleasure of watching Louis belt the lyrics to a number of radio hits.

He'd gotten tested a day after they had sex and he'd felt weird about it. He thinks that could've also played a role in why he wasn't in a rush to talk to Louis immediately after. It'd been the boy's first and he would've felt crude and inconsiderate telling him he got tested just so they could fuck unprotected. But now he has to fight the need to blurt it out and present the idea to Louis.

Now feels right though as they lazy around on Louis' sofa. Lax bodies, and naked torsos, cuddled together as he gives Louis his typical belly rubs, and Cake Boss plays on the TV.

"I'm clean. I got tested right after we had sex, but I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to think I meant anything by it. Also, if we were to consider the idea of bareback, I wouldn't want to risk your safety. I know that I'm your first and we've only had intercourse once, but I'm just being honest when I say I want to fuck you raw."

Louis stops Harry's hand from rubbing languidly at his belly. He turns on his stomach and peers up at the man through thick eyelashes. He stares for a minute before he lifts up and smiles shyly. "I've kind of wanted that too, but I didn't know if that was like normal or not. I didn't want to freak you out. When I got my dosage change I had to have a urine test done, so I'm clean."

Harry grunts, biting his bottom lip. "Fuck, okay then it's settled. I'm gonna fuck you raw Bumble because _we_ need it."

Louis whimpers, face nuzzling the dip between Harry's pecs."Y-Yeah, we need it."

"Mhmm, but why do you need it, sweetheart?"

Louis looks bashful, a blush that fans across his entire upper body. He's on his knees, arms wrapped around his upper chest as he looks up at the ceiling. "Because daddy … I n-need your cum."

Harry's knuckle rubs over Louis' almond brown happy trail before he lets his hand push Louis' joggers down under his ballsack. The petite cock is hard and leaking, a spasm that sends precum dripping from the head. His first few tugs are dry and pull languid whimpers from Louis' parted lips, the heat radiating slightly overwhelms his palm. "I thought so."

After another few pulls, Harry releases the hold, and covers Louis back up. He pulls the demure male down, his pint-sized form like a warm blanket over his body. He kisses Louis' wet lips, large hands bracketing Louis' petite face, as he tongues into the lax mouth. The saliva dripping down their chins when they part makes Harry's cock jump. He's moving back in for another taste when Louis begins shuffling himself down. He groans because Louis' mouth is on his dick before he can even deny the gesture.

"Fuck, Lou."

Louis' mouth is spread wide and filled full of warm cock. He sucks softly at the skin before pulling off. "Need your cock in my mouth too."

Harry shudders, hand snaking into the feathery locks of Louis' hair. "I don't want to cum too early, Bumble."

Louis nods but still swallows half of Harry's girth down. His saliva that accumulates in the creases of his mouth begins to drip down Harry's shaft and into his hairy bush. He pushes a tiny hand up against Harry's ballsack, nimble fingers working the sack over, which causes the older man to cease up.

"Holy shit!"

Louis bobs carefully at first, and it's as he trains his mouth to relax that it opens wider and he gets deeper on Harry's dick. His first gag makes Harry moan in delight, the eagerness to push Louis down almost overcoming him. He pulls him up and off instead.

Louis' eyes are glazed and wide. His spit-slicked lips are frothy around the edges as he gazes hungrily at Harry's length. "Daddy," he whines pitifully, left hand still prodding at Harry's scrotum. "More, please."

Harry caves in because he's weak, "Just a little longer, sweetheart, and then I want inside that hole."

Louis smiles, "Yes sir."

Louis works Harry's cock over for the next ten minutes, edging him so close to the brink that the man has to grip the couch cushion beneath him instead of Louis' pretty little head. That's where he'd made his hands retreat when he begin to have too many instances where he felt he would rip chunks of brown strands from the male's skull. When Harry finally forces Louis off of him, his cock is a faint plum purple, covered in spit, and throbbing dangerously. Harry can't even move much without his cock spasming and oozing little bubbles of semen, so he orders Louis to lay back and finger himself open.

It had seemed like a foolproof plan to prevent him from busting his nut quick, until Louis' got four of his fingers in his ass, and he's made himself cum untouched twice already. Small speckles of white that rest in the concave of his belly alongside beads of sweat. Louis' face is flushed and distant as he watches his own ministrations. He works at his hole slowly, pulling out only briefly to scoop up his own cum and stuff it into his rosebud for an easier glide.

"That's fucking hot," Harry grunts, hand gripped around the base of his cock to help hold off his impending orgasm. He needs every drop of his semen to be lodged deep in the man laid out before him. "Come on, I'm gonna need to fuck you open on your bed." Harry hisses when he releases his cock.

Louis removes his hand slowly, and Harry sucks in deep when the man uses the same hand to pull at Harry's dick. Harry sits up, staring at Louis' hand still wrapped around him. They stare hard at one another as Louis pulls on Harry's cock.

"You just can't get enough of him, huh."

"Love him, daddy, makes me feel _so_ good." Louis' voice is shot, a hoarse whisper that rests delicately on Harry's shoulder.

Harry reluctantly paused Louis' tugs, pulling the boy close and kisses at his hot mouth. He lifts him up and makes quick work of getting to Louis' bedroom. The white Jersey sheets are clear, the canary yellow comforter is bunched up near the headboard. Harry lays Louis' head among the comforter and pillows, a vision before him as he stares down at the aloof boy.

Louis is laid still, his hands rubbing over his nipples and down to his wet cock. "Absolutely stunning." Harry breathes.

Harry's lining up with Louis' gaping entrance when he spots his dwindling honey in the windowsill. He loves to eat it on his favorite meal, and that meal happens to be laid out before him ready to devour. Opening the jar, he dips his pointer into the dwindling substance, quickly drizzling it over Louis' nipples and his hairless cock. The man shivers and whines as Harry licks at the pink nubs, a bite to each one before he travels down to the pulsing penis. He licks around the small sac before sucking Louis into his mouth, the mix of semen and dandelion honey coating his tongue.

"Oh, fuck yes." Louis whines, trembling hand yanking on a clump of curls atop Harry's head.

He sucks briefly before pulling off and getting back to his original task. "Sorry, couldn't pass up dousing you in honey and licking you clean."

"Cock now, please." Louis pants, his hands back on his nipples, pinching and tugging harshly as he watches with anticipation as Harry lines himself up again.

"You're such a fucking cockslut, baby. Love that about you."

"Only for you," Louis replies, eyes fluttering shut on the breach against his pucker.

Harry's butt cheeks clench together when he's pressed up against Louis' ass. He's about to pull back and go to town on the seizing rosebud when his ringtone breaches the sex-filled bubble. He growls because this nuisance of a client has called him ten times, and because of it, Harry just wants to chuck his phone off a bridge. He scoops it up, and mid-ring shuts it entirely off, tossing it behind him.

"He just doesn't get the message, huh? I'm trying to make my baby feel good." Harry pants, rubbing at Louis' tummy as he continues to ease back inside.

Louis nods, a blissful smile across his face. "Daddy's favorite," he lilts.

Harry begins to speed up at that, spurred on by Louis' building whimpers and pants. "In the whole world."

He pistons his hips so he's knocking incessantly at Louis' prostate, and that's only because he's not going to last long. The last time Harry had sex without a condom he was a bumbling teenager. Louis' cock twitches for a third and final dry orgasm that makes the boy shout brokenly.

"I'm close, Lou," Harry mutters, the sweat dripping down his face and neck a testament to just how hard he's fucking the body beneath him. He feels his orgasm at the edge, squeezing around his balls and building up in his urethra. "Shit!"

Harry pulses for longer than a minute, ooze after ooze of cum that's being sucked from him as Louis' hole clenches around him. He doesn't immediately pull out, just stays nestled between the thighs of the man he's falling in love with. When he finally does manage to pull his soft cock from Louis' ass, he rests his head gently against Louis' heaving chest, his heart thumping in Harry's eardrum.

"Like my cum inside you?" he asks gently, scooting down slightly to kiss at Louis' belly that smells like sweat and semen. He can't help but lick into the belly button, a strong salty taste an abrupt evasion on his tastebuds.

Louis nods softly, fingers pressing gently into Harry's damp scalp. "Mhmm. Warms me up."

"Look at me, Bumble." Harry waits for the haze in Louis' blue eyes to clear, and they're steady on Harry's frame, before lifting completely off Louis' body. The small man shudders, and Harry instantly pulls him close. "You okay? Do you feel alright?"

"Feel so good. Just want a bath and cuddles, please."

"Okay, my honeybee, whatever you want."

***

Harry's got Louis dozing in between his legs as they watch a re-run of Cake Boss. He's never been so content and happy with his life, and he kind of wants to laugh because he swore up and down Louis wasn't what he wanted or needed. He's glad to be wrong for once. He raises his hand to lay against Louis' belly, he then rubs handily at the boy's stomach.

"I'm falling for you, Bumble." he says softly, kissing Louis' scalp.

"Me too," Louis whispers.

He looks up at Harry with this gaze, and it's so innocent and so open, that Harry wants to use every fiber in his being to protect the human fairy laid against him. "Louis, sweetheart, if you ever think you're about to experience an episode, please try and call me."

Louis immediately sits up, and moves slightly out of Harry’s grip, Harry’s hand around his wrist the only thing keeping him tethered.

"Why would you say that? I don't want you to see me like that," Louis huffs, easing his wrist from Harry's gentle grip, "My panic attacks make me lose people. Can't lose you, Harry. I—"

"Shhh, Bumble. Sweet, sweet honeybee." Harry soothes. He pulls Louis back into his lap, nuzzling at the tip of his earlobe, "We've already discussed my feelings pertaining to your anxiety, so I mean what I say."

***

It isn't until Harry's searching for his phone to order takeout that he realizes he managed to stay off the device longer than he ever has. It's just now eight, and he's so surprised that he spends a solid minute just staring at the black phone screen.

"Everything okay?" Louis questions. He's sorting through his stickers in his lunchbox and putting certain ones on his door.

"Uh, yeah," he ignores all the incoming notifications as he immediately opens GrubHub. He's passing through different restaurants when Louis has two stickers, a bear on a motorcycle and a banana split topped with whipped cream, in each palm.

He placed them in view of the brightly lit screen. "Which one should I pick."

Harry catches a glimpse of a voicemail from Dr. Abrams, his biggest client right now, and instantly reverts to his work mindset. "Uh, the bear."

Louis hums before shuffling back over to his door. Harry puts ordering food on the back burner and clicks on the voicemail from his incessant client, He's mildly agitated when he puts the phone to his ear.

> _Is this how you treat clients that are paying you fifteen-hundred an hour!? I don't have time to be pushed aside, Mr. Styles, so I will be taking my business elsewhere. Very unprofessional, I'll also be contacting the Better Business Bureau about this as well._

Harry rose from the bed and rushed out to the living room without any warning to Louis. He tried calling Dr. Abrams back twice, but his calls were forwarded straight to voicemail. "Fuck!"

He immediately phones Niall, who confirms in a sleep-addled voice that Dr. Abrams had called the office. It was after berating their services and their firm that he asked to be removed from Harry's client list.

"I tried to tell him that you were having a personal day, but the egomaniac wouldn't hear it. He just ranted about our horrible customer service."

"Just my fucking luck! His case was my biggest payout!"

"I can give you the number to his office," Niall adds.

Louis comes into the room with another pair of stickers, a smiling sun and a daisy. He holds them up to Harry, who immediately pushes the man aside. "Not now, Louis," Harry sighs. "Yeah, just text it to me. Also, Niall, pull up his case file and send me an overview of what's left to square away; that'd be great. Maybe if I get his notes in order and tell him that I'll be set for his hearing, he'll reconsider."

"Okay, boss. Tell Louis I said hello."

Harry clicks off the call, and he's focused on his phone when Louis slides in front of him again. "Harry, you didn't pick." He holds the two stickers back up, letting them dance over Harry's phone screen.

Harry flashes Louis a sneer, yanks the two small emblems from the man's hands, and scrunches them in his fist. "Louis, I am not in the mood to be bothered by you!" Louis steps back, his hands instinctively wrapping around him. "I've lost a very important client, thanks to you, and now I've got to convince him to give me a second chance."

Louis frowns, and rubs at his arm as he stares at the carpeted floor. "How is this my fault? _You_ said I was more important, that _you_ wanted to spend Saturday with me."

"My work is also important!" Harry hisses. The boiling anger catches him so off guard that he's just an angry blur on his way back to Louis' bedroom where he quickly redresses. Louis' hot on his trail, and he should've known it wouldn't be that easy.

"So, you lied," Louis asks so quietly it's borderline unnerving.

Harry completely recants his statement from weeks prior that he would never see Louis angry. The boy before him was nothing but, and it caused him to shudder. There wasn’t even a small glimpse of a pretty smile urging to peak out.

"Lawyers lie all the time."

Louis scoffs, pulls his lunchbox off his dresser and gives Harry a bored stare. "No, Harry, you lied as my boyfriend, so cut the bullshit."

Harry flinches away from the words, the dripping accusation too much for him to handle. "Just leave me alone," he mutters, ducking past Louis who this time doesn't rush after him.

He makes it all the way to his apartment unscathed, and the part of him that's bothered that he did is replaced with his building need to right his wrongs with Dr. Abrams.

***

"So, you just stopped talking to him. Left him high and dry?"

"Why are you looking at me like you want to rip me apart."

Zayn punches Harry in the chest, along with an aggravated snarl, "Because I do! Louis was the best thing to happen to your workaholic ass, and you just _dumped_ him."

"I didn't dump him," Harry stresses, reading over his notes that he would need for Dr. Abrams case hearing tomorrow. Harry had worked the entire week on the man’s case. Late nights where his body ran off of espresso, red wine, and Thai food.

The same day he left Louis' he finally got in contact with Dr. Abrams, and begged the prestige man to give him a second chance. He'd made up some bullshit lie about his phone being destroyed, and the man took pity on him while also giving Harry a warning about no more chances after.

"Oh right, my bad, you prioritize your job over him." Zayn's still sneering, "Sounds so much better. You picked a check over your boyfriend."

"I can't believe I'm getting lectured from the marijuana enthusiast."

"Nobody calls it marijuana! God, you're such a fucking know-it-all. If I were Louis, I'd realize I don't want to spend the rest of my life with father fucking time."

"You can fuck off, Zayn. Don't worry about my relationship."

"Trust me, I'm not."

Harry stared at the slammed door, before concluding that he needed someone with common sense, not his stoner roommate. He phoned Liam.

"I'm with Zayn on this one, H. You can't get mad at Louis for something you agreed on doing. I don't understand why you took it out on Louis at all."

"I didn't take it out on him! I—I … You know what, I don’t have to explain myself to anyone. My job was here way before Louis."

Liam sighed into the phone, "Nobody's negating that, Harry. What we're saying is that sometimes other things come along and take precedence, and that's okay."

"Goodbye Liam, I will see you Monday."

He hung up before anything else could be said or offered to him. He doesn't understand why suddenly his closest friends feel like he's in the wrong. Harry's been the same person his entire life, he's had plenty of relationships before Louis, and they've all ended because his job was everything, and it was always understood that it _came_ before anything. He, of course, ignored that part of his conscience that knew Louis fell into his own category, and his relationship with the man went a little deeper than what he's allowed himself to entertain in the past.

Louis may have been right those weeks back when he wanted to end things; it was too much of a difference between them. From age, hobbies, and occupations, they had more reasons for why it didn't work than they had for why it did. But even with knowing all this, Harry's still a stubborn bastard who doesn't like to be proven wrong. Him ending things with the sticker boy because they aren't ideal won't suffice, so now, he doesn't know where to go from here.

* * *

Louis' in denial about where he stands with Harry, and he has this small string of hope that things between them are only rocky and not over. He was more than pissed at the lawyer after his outburst Saturday. But now, as he sat in a new Saturday with still no contact, he just wanted a long hug. He was done with being angry and upset; he just wanted to cuddle up on his couch with his boyfriend and watch re-runs of Cake Boss. He's been overly attached to his lunchboxes lately. He refilled them with a ton of ones Harry got him, and he's glad he doesn't have to answer to anyone but himself.

He's too busy turning to glance down at the opposite end of the hall to notice the two bodies guarding his apartment door. Andy and Kenny look misplaced, and Louis' not the least bit surprised by that, only because they haven't been on speaking terms for as long as he and Harry have known one another.

"Oh. Hey guys," he mutters, house keys twirling around his pointer as he approaches them carefully. He's not scared, just not in the mood to be bothered.

"What's up, Lou-pie." Andy greets happily, "These were taped to your door." He's got two small sheets of stickers in between his fingers.

Louis smiles automatically because he knows they're from Harry, and this gesture alone makes the building queasiness in his gut partially subside. "Thanks."

"You get them delivered to you now?" Kenny scoffs, the judgment in his eyes making Louis clam up and quickly unlock his door.

They follow him inside, and he collects both his lunchboxes to take them to his bedroom. He's just trying to busy himself with anything instead of dealing with Kenny's scolding and Andy's subtle looks of agreement. They're still there when he returns, peering at different portions of his apartment that look different from their last visit. He wonders if he should tell them about Harry, it's when Kenny groans at a basket of stickers the lawyer got him he decides not to.

"Do you guys want anything to dr—"

"We came to see if you thought over what we said and wanted to get yourself some actual help." Kenny interrupts, this determined glint in his eye that makes Louis uneasy.

Andy pushes Kenny aside, "What this jerkoff is trying to say is that we want you to start seeing a therapist again. We know you're on your new meds but getting some professional therapy help again may help you stop depending heavily on your stickers."

"I have my medicine and my stickers. I don't need therapy anymore, Dr. L gave me these tools, and they work just fine." Louis was at his breaking point of having to explain his method of coping. "When I would have draining attacks that even you two couldn't help me down from, my stickers were there, front and center."

"We couldn't help you because you wouldn't let us," Kenny says, the accusatory tone mildly evident.

Louis glares hard at Kenny, whose eyes are filled with malice. Thinking about it now, he doesn't understand how he even considered the brute a friend, and then he looks at Andy, whose kind eyes help Louis feel slightly better. Andy was and has always been the backbone of their three-way friendship.

"Kenny, how about you back off and cool down," Andy suggests, pulling the man by the shoulder.

Kenny yanks away, "Stop fucking babying him. That's his problem now!"

Andy watches Kenny head out the living room, "Yeah, cause yelling in his face is definitely the better option." he rolls his eyes before giving Louis a genuine smile, "Sorry."

Louis' itching to get his hands on one of his lunchboxes, "I think you two should go. I-I appreciate the help, but I'm fine—I'll always be fine."

"Louis, please," Andy sighs, tawny brown hand gripping Louis’, which is trembling and extremely sweaty. "I don't want to lose you as a friend."

"You and Kenny were friends first; it's fine." Louis lets his hand fall out the hold, "I never had friends before you two, so it'll be easier for me to get over it."

"You shouldn't have to get over it. You should be able to have good people in your life, and I just want you to get better, as a friend who cares about you."

"Let's go D, He's a lost fucking cause." Kenny's already headed for the front door, "I'm going to the car, and I will leave without you."

Louis pushes Andy away, "Go, D." Andy contemplates but, in the end, turns on his heels and leaves.

The second the door clicks he sprints for his bedroom. He doesn't even care which one he gets in his grasps first, he just needs one of them because it's tracking up his throat. Razor sharp talons that dig deep in his esophagus, and make the following breaths so hard to come by that he's begging his overwrought mind to let him come up for air. Clouded eyes search his room before falling on his unmade bed, where he remembers _explicitly_ tossing his boxes. The moment his throat starts to close, his body deciding on its own that he's had enough breathing for today, his searching becomes a lot more sporadic. It's when the tornado that swept through his room and caused chaos leaves that Louis faces the music.

"No! Please, oh please,” he cries loudly, running back to the front of his apartment to tear apart his kitchen and living room. Any chance of logic shining through is stomped down by the blaring truth that he didn't want to acknowledge. They were gone.

***

"Your honor. It has been made clear by substantial evidence that Ms. Davis was only with my client for his wealth and inheritance," Harry speaks firmly.

The judge is clearly not happy to be dealing with matters that honestly could've been squashed with a mediator. But there is more money from cases that land themselves in front of a judge. If Dr. Abrams ex-wife keeps up her fight against the prenup, they could be in court for months. Even though these are the cases Harry despises the most, it's just more money in his pocket, so he's not complaining.

"Your honor, my client was more than a dutiful spouse. Dr. Abrams has no right to withhold money that Ms. Davis worked for, herself."

Harry chuckles, but it's short-lived when the judge throws him a warning glance. "Ms. Davis has not worked _once_ since being married to my client, so what money is it that she thinks she rightfully deserves?"

"She was a sole contributor to the rebranding of the new office in Franklin Square. She spent many days and nights planning the grand opening while also sitting in on the hiring process."

Harry can't help but laugh again, and he holds his hands up at the tired man looking down on them, "My apologies, but I—" he pauses when he hears frantic shuffling behind him. Everyone, including himself, turns to see Niall scurrying down the walkway.

Harry groans quietly, narrowed eyes pinned on Niall. He would usually give him a narrowed gaze back, but instead, he looks ashen and worried.

"Uh, Counselor Styles, it's-it's an emergency."

Before Harry can even give his own response, Dr. Abrams is scoffing at Niall and shaking his head, "No, it will have to wait."

Harry grips into the arm of the chair, "It will be just a moment." he looks towards the judge, who nods him away along with an eye roll.

Harry waits to unload on Niall when they're out in the hallway. "This better be good, Niall, because I didn't beg this rich snob for a second chance just for the littlest incident to fuck it up."

"Louis called the office hysterical. I mean H, I couldn't even understand him. He sounded horrible, kept mumbling, 'he said to call'. I couldn't get him to calm down, so I told him to hang on while I tried to get a hold of you, but he hung up. I came down here to let you know in person."

Harry watches as the world itself pauses. He tries to make sense of what Niall is telling him, grappling onto a small piece of hope that it's not what he thinks. However, that simple statement, _'he said to call'_ nipping and yanking at his brain, forces him to think otherwise. "Shit."

He rushes back into the courtroom. Tunnel vision doesn't allow him to focus on the eyes watching him sprint to the table to dig his cellphone out of his bag. He's powering it on when the judge clears his throat. Harry's just about to give the gray-haired man his attention when his phone begins to ring repeatedly. Calls, texts, and voicemails all under the name _Stickers,_ and his heart plummets to his stomach.

"I-I," he looks at a red-faced Dr. Abrams. "I apologize, Dr. Abrams, Judge Hanson, but this is an emergency." he states softly, walking backward up the aisle.

"Absolutely not, Styles, we had a deal. I will not be pushed to the wayside again!" he shouts angrily.

Harry turns only to hide his eye roll, "Just write the bad review." And he pushes open the courtroom door to be greeted by a wide-eyed Niall. "See if you can get someone to fill in. Paul, at Reynolds and Frost, should take it if you explain the cash on the line."

He's doesn't wait for a response just books it down the corridor, skirting through people with one person on his mind. He's made many promises to Louis, but he hates this is the first one he breaks.

***

If he hadn't known what Niall had told him, stepping into the destroyed apartment would easily have him assuming the worse. And going off of the extensive damage, he's lucky they exchanged house keys before their fallout, because calling up their landlord and him seeing the state of Louis' apartment wouldn't be worth dealing with. Pretty much everything glass-related is broken, shards belonging to left out mugs and bowls littered the kitchen tile, sticker bins pushed over and flooding the living room floor. The lights are off, and the sun is beginning to set, so the rooms are darkening quickly. Harry steps where he can, trying to avoid causing any more damage. He pauses at the bedroom because he can't even fathom what Louis is experiencing right now, and he's slightly apprehensive about what's on the other side of the door.

When he finally pushes into the bedroom, Harry can't even begin to imagine why he thought the two front rooms took the brunt of Louis' wrath. His bedroom looks like it's been uprooted, tossed around, and shaken erratically. The dresser top is bare, items of all kind littering the cluttered floor. The bed is bare aside from Louis. The sheets, comforter, and pillows are scattered along the floor, and it's just Louis balled in on himself shaking uncontrollably. His breathing is limited, each shallow gasp of air sounding like his last.

Harry reaches out, and his fingertips barely graze the male's head before he's scrambling away, loud commands that make Harry retreat and hold his hands up in defense. "No! Stop touching me, don't—don't touch me."

"Bumble. My sweet, sweet honeybee."

Louis doesn't respond just balls in deeper on himself and presses further into the corner. His shallow breathing that scares Harry more than he's letting on, seems to build. He eases down on the queen mattress, inching as close as he feels is right, while also leaving Louis enough personal space to not feel smothered. Harry doesn't touch him or demand answers. He just waits. Waits because Louis isn't going to return to earth until he feels safe enough to do so, and who is Harry to determine when he makes that descend.

"I'm right here, sweetheart. Whenever you're ready," Harry whispers softly. He powers his phone off, leans back against the wall, closes his eyes and waits.

Louis' still huddled in on himself two hours later when Harry decides to clean the apartment. He starts in the living room and kitchen before he works himself into Louis' bedroom. Louis peaks out of his shell when Harry's done and sitting back in the same spot. His eyes are bloodshot, and he's shivering even though the room is warm and he's fully clothed.

Harry flinches at the voice that sounds like blended nails. "You told me to call, but–but you didn't answer."

He's eager to reach out and pull Louis in his arms. "I'm so sorry, Louis. I was in court, so my phone was off."

"My stickers," Louis whimpers, "They're gone."

"Gone?"

"Mhmm." Louis lifts up out of his confined form, rubs his itchy eyes, and stares forlornly at the spot he placed them in before they vanished. "They, fuck," Louis whines again, palms digging deep into his watery eye sockets, "They are my fucking _life_."

Harry finally can't help himself and reaches out for Louis. The man automatically cowers away and wraps himself in his own arms as he shakes his head softly. "Don't touch me." he presses his forehead to his knees, "Not right now."

"I feel helpless," Harry whispers.

"Welcome to my world."

***

They unwind slowly, with Harry first helping Louis into a warm lavender-scented bath and setting him out a clean pair of pajamas. He places the usual Dunkin’ order while adding on a half-dozen donuts. The recently played movie on Louis’ bedroom TV is Grease, so he starts it back up.

When Louis emerges from the bathroom, Harry’s got the entire set up on the bed in order. He lets Louis settle himself back into his corner before he eases into his spot from earlier. They eat in silence, quiet chewing as they devour the fast food and sugary donuts.

Danny's just beginning to belt ‘Greased Lightning’ when Louis ventures out of the corner and into Harry’s lap. Harry doesn’t say anything, just lays his hand over Louis’ warm stomach and gives him all the belly rubs he deserves. He even presses subtle kisses into the man’s scalp because he just needs to be closer.

“I haven’t had someone bring me down since Dr. L and my mom.” Louis’ voice is still gritty, and Harry can’t help but wrap his fingers loosely around the man’s neck and gently massage along his throat. “My stickers—my lunchboxes—have been the only thing to bring me out.” he’s quiet for a while, but Harry doesn’t rush him. “When my mother took Dr. L and my stickers from me, while topping it all off with her own untimely death—I was lost. I turned to the only thing that numbed, which was alcohol. I had a terrible drinking problem, so bad that I even started putting it in place of my medication. It became the only way I could … _cope_. Andy and Kenny, through a stupid joke gift, helped bring me out by getting me back into my collecting, and my reliance grew again. Grew to the point they wanted nothing to do with me.”

Harry pulled Louis closer when his sniffles increased. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Louis. I just want you happy and healthy. If stickers help with that, then I’m all for it.” He leans down to nose at Louis’ earlobe. “I’m sorry about last Sunday. If you have the patience to work with me, I really want to get better with putting a certain _someone_ before my job.”

Louis turns slightly, bumping his nose against Harry’s. “I think the only reason I didn’t push myself over the edge was because of you. So, if you’ll be patient with _me_.”

Harry lets Louis’ chapped lips brush against the side of his mouth before he shifts to lock them together in a soft kiss. “We’ll be patient for each other.” Harry stares at the sticker-covered door, “And we’ll find them, baby, I promise.”

Louis' hums are a delicate sound that Harry almost misses. “I think I’ll be just fine if we don’t.”

***

"Hey man," Harry breathes. He's leaned up against the doorframe of Louis' bedroom door, watching what he now realizes is the love of his life sleep peacefully. "I know it's last minute, and it's right when you’re due to return, but I've gotta take a couple days off."

"Niall called and told me. We'll worry about clients and schedules later. Just focus on him H, and keep me posted if you can." says Liam with a reassuring tone.

Harry smiles to himself, "Thanks, Li. I'll talk to you soon." Louis' moving when he he clicks off the call. The oversized shirt falling off his shoulder, sleep-rumpled hair, and drowsy blue eyes pull at Harry's heartstrings. "Good Morning, honeybee."

Louis yawns, fist rubbing out leftover sleep and eye boogers. "Can I have Dunkin' again?"

"It's out in the kitchen, sweetheart. So, let's get you out of bed, into the shower, and in some fresh clothes."

"Shower together?"

"If that's what you want," Harry says, moving into the room and beginning to undress along with Louis.

"It's what I want."

Harry takes his time with Louis. Slathers every inch of his body in the sugar cookie body wash, and rinses him gently. He kisses along Louis' wet cheeks and neck. Sucks the accumulating water from the dips in his collarbones and sheds a few tears of his own in the soaking strands of Louis' hair.

"Never want to see my baby so upset again, want my little bumblebee happy always."

"You make me happy," Louis whispers into Harry's chest. He places feather light kisses along Harry's water dotted chest.

Harry's hand is bracketing the back of Louis' head. He pulls away slightly to place a damp kiss on his boy's wet forehead. "Same here."

***

"I took the next few days off. I don't know what you'll need from me, but I'll be here."

Louis' in the process of dipping his egg wrap in ketchup when he gazes wide-eyed up at Harry. "You don't have to do that."

"I wanted to. I know you're capable of taking care of yourself, and you've been doing it all this time, but I … I wanted to."

"I usually always take a few days off after an episode anyway." Louis' smile is there, but it doesn't make his eyes crinkle, "It'll be nice having company."

It's as Harry's taking a sip of his coffee that he realizes he needs to tell Louis he loves him. It's been gnawing at his stomach for some time now, but in this moment, it's impossible for him to ignore. "Louis, I'm so glad you weaseled your way in my life."

Louis laughs for the first time since Harry found him huddled in his corner. His eyes are glittery and gleaming, teeth shiny and white, sharp cheeks bulged and resembling ruby red apples. Harry _definitely_ has to tell him.

"I'll take the compliment, I guess, asshole," Louis smirks, biting into his strawberry-frosted donut.

Harry smiles, "That's not all. I just, I'm so lucky and I—" he grits his teeth when there's a knock on the door.

Louis looks puzzled as he stands. He wraps his body in the blanket that had been draped over his lap since he's only in Harry's t-shirt and a pair of boxers. Harry stays put at first, but he's not only nosy but mildly protective of Louis for multiple reasons at this point. He sidles up behind the shorter man and wraps an arm loosely around Louis' neck and shoulders as he stares at the man in the doorway.

It's Andy. Harry only knows this because of the pictures he'd briefly seen of the guy in Louis' phone before they got deleted. He's got an Aldi's bag in his hand, and he looks torn up. There are deep bags under his eyes and his frame is fidgety.

"D? What—is everything okay?"

He doesn't say anything at first, just opens the plastic bag and pulls out Louis' lunchboxes. "Kenny took them, and he wanted me to help burn them. I'm so sorry, Louis." he rushes out.

Louis snatches the boxes out of the man's hands, and Harry has to do a double-take at Louis' face because he looks _menacing_. It's still hard for Harry to wrap his head around, but he’ll never doubt Louis’ ability to be angry ever again. Slitted eyes and a down turned mouth are pinned on the man still standing in the hall.

"I swear Lou, I didn't want any parts the minute he showed them to me. I took’em and came straight here. I don't know what's come over him lately, but I’m sorry."

Louis' face relaxes, and he leans heavily on Harry, who has no problem supporting the man's weight. "I'll always be thankful for what you two did for me, but it's high time we all moved on."

Before Andy could say anything else, Louis slammed the door shut. Harry wasn't sure what to do, so he just stayed as nearby as Louis needed. The lunchboxes get tossed on the kitchen bar top, and Harry is lead hand in hand by Louis to the couch. He’s pushed down on the cushions where Louis snuggles deep into his lap. Once comfortable he nuzzles his face into the warm crook of Harry's neck.

"Do you need your stickers?" Harry asks.

Louis shakes his head without leaving his hiding spot. He's pulled the cover over both their bodies, so they're in a makeshift cocoon. "Don't need them right now, I've got you."

Harry smiles into the soft head of hair. "And I've got you honeybee. You really managed to _stick_ to me and—and I love you for that. I love you, Louis."

Louis' giggles fan delicately across Harry's neck. "I love you too, Counselor Styles."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I have a [Tumblr](https://writewhatiwant22.tumblr.com/) now! Send me messages! However, if it’s anything rude or problematic I will not answer, just an FYI.*

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, thank you for reading and showing my fic any ounce of consideration. Thank you to the moderators of this fest,and their diligent, as well as, understanding attitudes throughout the entire process. ❤️✌🏾


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